Harrisofi  Robertson 


RED    BLOOD   AND   BLUE 


Red  Blood  and  Blue 


BY 


HARRISON    ROBERTSON 

AUTHOR    OF    "HOW    THE    DERBY    WAS    WON 
"IF    I    WERE   A    MAN,"     ETC. 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1900 


Copyright,  1900 
JY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


rights  reserved 


UNIVERSITY    PRESS    •    JOHN    WILSOIf 
AND    SON     •    CAMBRIDGE,    U.S.A. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue 


i 


THE  electric  whir  of  fifty  wings ;  the  brown 
covey's  level  flight,  as  a  charge  of  canister- 
shot  ;  a  flash  from  a  quickly  raised  gun,  and 
then  a  tanned,  sturdily-stepping  boy,  after 
having  noted  where  the  flushed  quails  had 
sunk  again  into  the  yellow  sedge,  made  his 
way  to  his  spoil,  which,  with  one  last  tremor, 
was  lying  on  the  grass. 

The  boy  picked  up  the  bird,  holding  it  in  his 
palm  and  inspecting  its  plump  beauty,  the 
gleam  of  the  hunter  in  his  eyes. 

"  Hello,  Andrew !     What  luck  ?  " 

Arthur  Feme,  a  lad  of  Andrew's  own  age, 
which  was  not  more  than  fourteen,  pulled  up 
his  horse  as  he  was  galloping  across  the  fields, 
and  thus  accosted  the  young  sportsman. 

Andrew  looked  up  with  a  frank  nod. 

"  Not  what  I  expected,"  he  answered.  "  I 
blazed  bang  into  the  covey,  and  I  thought  I  'd 
bring  down  more  'n  one." 


2  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  I  reckon  the  birds  are  satisfied,  if  you  're 
not  —  all  except  that  one  you  have  there. 
Poor  little  fellow !  It  seems  a  shame  to  kill 
them  so,  doesn't  it?" 

There  was  about  young  Feme  the  easy  air 
of  one  who  fell  naturally  into  the  confidence 
of  those  with  whom  he  talked,  anticipating 
and  agreeing  with  them  before  they  expressed 
themselves.  It  was  a  winning  manner,  espe- 
cially with  those  who,  as  in  this  instance,  were 
classed  as  his  social  inferiors. 

Andrew  Outcault  gazed  at  the  handsome 
figure  on  the  horse  in  silence  for  a  second,  as 
if  he  did  not  fully  comprehend.  Then  the 
smile  that  lit  his  eyes  parted  his  ample  lips 
and  showed  the  ends  of  his  big,  white  teeth. 

"  What  were  they  put  here  for  if  it  was  n't 
to  be  killed  ? "  was  his  response.  He  turned 
over  the  dead  bird  in  his  hand  and  eyed  it 
again.  "  And  I  reckon  this  one  ought  to  be 
the  best  satisfied  one  in  the  lot.  He  won't 
have  to  scratch  for  a  livin'  and  starve  to  death 
when  the  big  snow  comes.  Fact,  he  '11  never 
know  what  snow  is  ;  he 's  a  this  year's  bird." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ? " 

"  Look.  Can't  you  see? "  holding  up  the 
young  cock  for  Arthur's  examination. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  3 

Arthur  bent  over  the  quail. 

"  Why,  how  can  you  tell  — 

But  he  did  not  finish  his  question.  He  drew 
back,  raising  himself  erect  in  the  saddle  and 
turning  away  his  paling  face. 

"  I  don't  want  to  look  at  it,"  he  said  authori- 
tatively. "  Put  it  in  your  bag.  Don't  you  see 
there  is  blood  on  it  ? " 

On  the  prettily  marked  head  of  the  bird 
a  crimson  bead  had  welled  from  the  puncture 
of  a  shot.  Andrew's  eyes  fell  to  the  quail  and 
then  lifted  again,  widening,  to  Arthur. 

"  Of  course  there  is  blood !  "  astonished  that 
it  should  provoke  any  comment,  and  recogniz- 
ing that  he  had  somehow  been  placed  on  the 
defensive.  "I  shot  him  —  I  shot  him  fair 
and  square,  on  the  wing.  I  did  n't  trap  him, 
or  drive  him  through  wet  weeds  into  a  net.  I 
don't  hunt  that  way." 

Andrew  was  defending  himself  the  more 
aggressively  because  he  did  not  understand 
what  was  the  accusation  against  him.  With 
him  the  blood  of  his  quarry  was  only  the  badge 
of  his  victory.  His  scant  experience  had  not 
yet  taught  him  that  there  were  people  in  the 
world  who  sickened  at  the  mere  sight  of  blood. 

"  Oh,  I  did  n't  mean  that !  "  Arthur  replied, 


4  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

leaning  over  his  horse's  neck  and  carefully 
adjusting  a  wisp  of  the  mane  which  had  blown 
to  the  wrong  side.  "  I  just  never  could  bear 
to  see  blood  ;  that 's  all." 

The  other  boy  was  speechless  for  a  moment. 
Then  his  mouth  twitched  and  he  was  on  the 
point  of  breaking  into  loud  laughter.  But 
something  checked  him  —  perhaps  the  instinct 
of  the  true  gentleman  in  the  heart  of  this  son 
of  the  soil  —  and  he  simply  commented: 

"  Well,  that  is  funny  ! " 

"  Father  says  I  '11  outgrow  it,"  Arthur  added 
cheerfully.  "  I  certainly  do  hope  so.  It 's 
awfully  uncomfortable."  Then,  gathering  up 
the  reins,  "  Have  you  seen  anything  of  Lee 
Torrance  over  this  way  ? " 

"  No  ;  I  ain't  seen  him  this  evenin'." 

Young  Feme  rode  off  toward  "  The  Mounds," 
the  Torrances'  home,  whose  chimneys  could  be 
seen  above  the  trees  a  mile  to  the  east ;  while 
Andrew,  leaning  against  his  gun,  looked  after 
the  receding  horseman. 

"  He  's  a  dadburned  good  rider,  anyhow," 
was  the  boy's  tribute,  "  if  he  is  skeered  of 
a  little  blood."  After  which  he  proceeded  to 
re-charge  with  powder,  wad,  and  shot  his  old 
muzzle-loading  gun. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  5 

Andrew  knew.  Arthur  Feme  was  a  good 
rider ;  and  as  he  trotted  briskly  across  the 
fields  the  slender  stalks  of  the  broom-sedge 
through  which  he  rode  did  not  give  themselves 
more  gracefully  to  the  motion  of  the  wind 
than  he  to  the  motion  of  his  horse.  He  was 
an  uncommonly  handsome  boy.  His  flesh  had 
much  of  the  whiteness  and  the  firmness  of  the 
young  hickory  under  the  bark.  Already  there 
was  in  his  development  the  assurance  of  a 
comely  and  strong  manhood  that  would  be 
conspicuous  even  among  the  products  of  this 
luxuriant  Tennessee  limestone.  His  hair, 
dusky  and  thick,  and  his  eyes,  soft  and  dark, 
accentuated  the  clarity  of  his  skin.  His  face 
was  faultless  in  its  lines,  unless  it  might  be 
criticised  as  a  trifle  too  narrow  in  its  lower 
part  for  the  imposing  breadth  of  forehead. 
The  nose  was  straight,  with  thin,  sensitive 
nostrils,  and  the  expression,  when  animated, 
was  full  of  brilliant  change ;  when  in  repose, 
thoughtful,  often  to  sadness.  He  was  in  ap- 
pearance certainly  the  worthy  representative 
of  a  family  that,  exclusive  of  the  Torrances, 
was  esteemed  as  the  first,  in  position  and 
lineage,  in  a  community  which,  had  it  always 
been  impressed  as  much  by  the  virtues  of 


6  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

pedigreed  hogs  as  of  pedigreed  humans,  would 
have  fared  better  materially. 

Andrew  Outcault,  having  loaded  his  gun, 
swung  it  across  his  knees  as  he  sat  upon  a 
stump,  and  idly  kicking  his  heel  against  its 
side,  whistled  "  Dandy  Jim  o'  Caroline "  and 
followed  with  his  eyes  Arthur  Feme's  prog- 
ress to  The  Mounds. 

The  long-sought  covey  of  quails  seemed 
now  forgotten.  Andrew's  back  was  turned 
upon  it.  His  puckered  face  was  set  to  The 
Mounds,  forbidden  territory  to  an  Outcault, 
which  Arthur  Feme  entered  almost  daily  with 
as  much  freedom  as  if  he  had  been  a  son  of 
James  York  Torrance  himself.  Lee  Torrance 
was  the  son  of  James  York  Torrance,  and 
Arthur  Feme  was  Lee's  friend,  but  it  was  not 
of  Lee,  nor  of  even  James  York  Torrance,  that 
Andrew  Outcault  thought  when  he  thought  of 
The  Mounds  ;  and  he  felt  in  his  riotous  young 
heart  that  it  was  not  of  these  that  such  as 
Arthur  Feme  thought  when  they  went,  as  he 
so  often  saw  them  go,  to  the  Torrance  planta- 
tion. For  there  was  the  home  of  Lee's  sister 
and  James  York  Torrance's  daughter,  Victoria 
Torrance,  who  had  set  aflame  in  Andrew 
Outcault  the  first  fierce,  secret  passion  of  a 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  7 

boy's  love,  which  by  day  drew  his  feet  and 
his  eyes  in  one  direction,  which  by  night 
fevered  his  pillow  with  longing  void  and 
ecstatic  dreams,  and  which  stirred  within  him 
the  awakening  forces  of  desire  and  awe,  feroc- 
ity and  tenderness,  mastery  and  abasement, 
that  have  been  the  lot  of  man  since  the 
breath  of  life  was  blown  into  another  sex, 
and  that  ever  lift  boyhood  to  the  stress  of 
manhood,  as  later  they  lift  manhood  to  the 
simplicity  of  boyhood. 

Such  a  passion  as  that  of  this  healthy, 
plainly-living  lad  could  only  be  intensified  by 
his  knowledge,  indefinite  and  yet  oppressive, 
that  she  who  had  inspired  it  was  in  a  world  so 
far  removed  from  his  that  he  was  not  even 
privileged  to  see  her  except  by  chance  and  at  a 
distance,  as  he  met  her  on  some  public  high- 
way, as  he  gazed  at  her  across  the  pews  at 
church,  or  prowled  among  the  thickets  near 
The  Mounds  to  catch  a  far  glimpse  of  her 
at  door  or  window,  or  among  the  oaks  and 
magnolias  in  which  the  house  was  set.  He 
had  no  clear  conception  of  the  reasons,  — 
indeed,  his  mind  was  too  immature  as  yet  to 
seek  reasons,  —  but  he  did  have  some  concep- 
tion of  the  disparity  in  which  the  Torrances 


8  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

and  the  Outcaults  were  held  by  those  who 
knew  both  families,  and  he  realized  that  as  an 
Outcault  the  place  to  which  he  was  popularly 
assigned  in  the  social  scale  was  hardly  above 
that  of  the  negroes  who  tilled  the  Torrances' 
cotton-fields. 

There  is  little  melody  in  "  Dandy  Jim  o' 
Caroline,"  and  there  was  less  as  Andrew 
whistled  it,  finishing  it  as  Arthur  disappeared 
through  the  gates  of  The  Mounds. 

Andrew  had  loosened  a  slab  of  the  dead 
stump's  bark  as  he  kept  time  with  his  heel,  and 
this  he  doggedly  continued  kicking  until  it  fell 
off,  after  which  he  jumped  to  the  ground  and 
with  a  laugh  and  a  "Shoulder  arms!"  started 
in  the  direction  in  which  the  quails  had  flown. 
For  a  few  steps  he  marched  like  a  soldier, 
except  that  he  glanced  back  once.  Then  when 
a  platoon  of  mullein  stalks  obstructed  his 
advance  he  clubbed  them  aside  with  his  gun. 
That  done,  his  eyes  wandered  again  toward 
The  Mounds,  and  the  gleam  of  the  hunter  had 
gone  out  of  them  as  they  shifted  back  toward 
the  waiting  covey.  A  couple  of  kildees,  flying 
by  out  of  range,  alighted  with  their  shrill 
challenge  on  the  banks  of  the  creek  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  nearer  The  Mounds.  Ordinarily  he 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  9 

would  not  have  noticed  a  kildee  while  he  had 
a  chance  for  a  quail,  but  now  he  turned  and 
watched  the  white  and  dun  birds  as  they  ran 
over  the  ground,  rocky  and  bare  except  for 
patches  of  short  grass,  beyond  the  farthest 
fringe  of  the  sedge.  He  suddenly  tossed  his 
gun  in  air,  and  catching  it  as  it  came  down,  sang 
out  the  old  air  of  the  children's  kissing  game : 

"  Fly  to  the  east  and  fly  to  the  west, 
And  kneel  to  the  one  you  love  the  best." 

The  kildees  had  flown  to  the  east,  the  quails  to 
the  west,  and  Andrew  with  resolute  strides 
started  toward  the  kildees. 

But  he  never  got  a  shot  at  them.  The  birds 
were  wary,  the  stalker  indifferent,  and  after 
they  had  twice  taken  wing  before  he  drew 
in  reach  they  scudded  northwest  toward  the 
"Dead  Sea,"  instead  of  east  toward  The 
Mounds.  Andrew  made  no  pretence  of  fol- 
lowing them  further,  but  loitered  along  the 
creek  that  came  from  the  great  spring  at  The 
Mounds.  The  spell  of  October  was  in  the  air; 
the  day,  with  all  its  out-door  freedom,  was  his 
own ;  and  he  thrashed  aimlessly  through  the 
fallen  leaves  on  the  bank  of  the  stream ; 
through  the  brush  and  bramble  that  crowded  to 


to  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

the  water's  edge ;  through  the  screening  withes 
of  the  willows;  through  the  soft  green  grass 
where  the  creek  spread  out,  at  the  foot  of 
the  gorge,  between  undulant,  beech-studded 
meadows;  through  the  gorge  itself,  whose  cool 
blue  rock-walls  were  draped  with  velvets  of 
moss  and  laces  of  ferns ;  but  all  the  time,  with 
his  wayward  steps,  slides,  and  leaps,  inching 
nearer  the  source  of  the  brook  at  The  Mounds. 
At  the  head  of  the  gorge  the  water,  before 
plunging  down  it,  eddied  aside  into  a  wide, 
smooth  pool,  which,  under  high  summer  skies, 
mirrored  the  fleece  of  every  cloud  above  and 
the  frond  and  leaf  of  every  vine  and  branch 
with  the  exquisitely  idealizing  fidelity  with 
which  it  revealed  the  markings  of  the  young 
bass  in  its  depths.  But  this  afternoon  the 
pool,  while  still  apparently  pure,  had  no  longer 
the  transparence  of  June  and  July.  Sumptu- 
ously dyed  leaves  had  drifted  around  its  rim 
and  sunk  to  its  bottom,  and  the  shadows  of 
the  airy  clouds  which  had  flitted  across  its  sur- 
face in  summer  as  fleeting  fancies  now  seemed 
to  have  been  caught  and  held  in  its  very  heart 
as  brooding  memories,  pervading  the  October 
water  with  the  same  mystic  softness  that  ever 
pervades  the  October  sunshine. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  1 1 

It  may  be  that  something  of  its  spirit 
momentarily  touched  the  chaotic  currents  that 
were  coursing  through  the  boy's  veins.  He 
threw  himself  upon  the  dry  leaves  by  the  side 
of  the  pool,  stirring  them  rhythmically  with  his 
foot,  for  no  manifest  purpose  except  to  hear 
them  rustle,  and  watching  one  little  crimson 
shallop  that  had  fallen  from  a  maple  and  lay 
seemingly  becalmed  on  still  water,  yet  which, 
sighted  by  the  spear  of  a  cat-tail  on  the  bank, 
was  slowly  swinging  toward  the  sluice  that 
shot  into  the  gorge. 

Andrew  followed  with  his  gaze  the  leaf  as  it 
circled  outward  and  was  caught  by  the  swift 
race,  disappearing  over  the  timbers  of  a  rude 
fish-trap  which  he  now  discovered  for  the  first 
time.  An  ejaculation  of  impatience  broke 
from  his  throat,  and  he  threw  a  stone  at  the 
trap  as  he  got  to  his  feet  and  went  toward  it. 
"  No  sneak-fishin'  here ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  he 
kicked  the  trap  to  pieces  and  sent  it  spinning 
down  the  stream.  After  which,  with  unwitting 
inconsistency  and  the  zest  of  the  slayer  for 
slaughter's  sake,  he  shot  a  kingfisher  that 
had  swooped  down  boldly  for  its  dinner. 

When  his  eyes  fell  again  on  the  pool  the 
place  of  the  maple  leaf  had  been  taken  by  a 


12  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

great  green-enamelled  magnolia  leaf,  and  his 
face  shone  with  a  new  light.  There  were  no 
magnolia-trees  nearer  than  The  Mounds,  and 
he  knew  that  the  leaf  must  have  floated  thence. 
He  went  to  the  narrowest  point  of  the  race, 
and,  standing  on  rocks  that  projected  from  the 
water,  waited  until  the  leaf  came  swirling 
down,  when  he  seized  it  and  bore  it  trium- 
phantly to  the  bank.  Lying  on  his  back,  with 
the  moist  leaf  cooling  his  closed  eyelids,  he 
dreamed  some  of  those  dreams  that  come  to 
sound-hearted  boys,  from  the  days  when  in 
skirts  they  mount  stick  horses  and  rout  armed 
legions  to  the  years  when  the  lengthening 
shadows  bring  them  dreams  of  only  what 
has  been  or  might  have  been.  For  the  time 
the  magnolia  leaf  was  to  Andrew  an  argosy 
of  fine  and  gallant  things.  The  creek,  for  in- 
stance, flowed  as  a  moat  around  the  grim  walls 
of  a  Castle  of  Evil  imprisoning  Innocence- 
and-Beauty-and- High-Degree ;  and  the  leaf  was 
dropped  into  the  water  by  her  own  fair  hand, 
which  had  traced  upon  it  an  appeal  to  chiv- 
alry and  a  prayer  for  deliverance ;  and  it  had 
come  to  him  in  the  far  greenwood,  a  poor 
and  simple  gentleman,  with  no  retainers  but 
his  wits,  no  fortune  but  his  sword :  and  fasten- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  13 

ing  the  leaf  of  lustrous  Lincoln-green  in  his 
cockade,  with  faith  Above  and  consecration  to 
Her  he  had  ridden  away  to  find  the  walls 
these  errant  waters  guarded ;  and  he  had  fol- 
lowed the  stream  toward  its  source  through 
untracked  forests  and  gruesome  fens  and 
mountain  fastnesses,  braving  all  manner  of 
perils  and  overcoming  countless  foes,  until  the 
very  water  ran  red,  red,  red,  and  the  castle 
was  reached  and  stormed,  and  Innocence-and- 
Beauty-and-High-Degree  was  borne  trium- 
phantly away,  to  bind  his  wounds  and  adore 
him  evermore. 

He  sprang  up  with  a  short  laugh.  It  was 
a  laugh  at  himself,  and  ended  abruptly,  after 
the  manner  of  the  snort  of  a  frolicsome  colt. 
He  looked  about  him  a  little  shamefully,  as  if 
half-suspecting  that  he  might  have  been  de- 
tected in  his  deeds  of  prowess.  Then  with 
another  laugh  he  stuck  the  magnolia  leaf  in 
his  hat-band  and  walked  along  the  creek  to 
a  shoal  where  he  knew  that  the  doves,  at  this 
hour  of  the  afternoon,  were  in  the  habit  of 
flying  to  drink. 

It  had  the  additional  attraction  of  being  very 
near  The  Mounds. 

Here,  at  the  edge  of  the  stream,  stood  an 


14  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

ash  with  a  dead  top,  on  which  the  doves 
usually  alighted  to  reconnoitre  before  ventur- 
ing down  to  the  water.  Andrew  could  see 
now  from  where  he  was  a  graceful  silhouette 
on  the  highest  point  of  the  ash,  but  he  trudged 
openly  ahead,  with  no  effort  to  conceal  his 
approach,  and  before  he  got  within  range  the 
bird  took  flight.  Reaching  the  shoal,  a  casual 
glance  revealed  the  presence  of  no  other  doves, 
and  he  stopped  in  a  clump  of  bushes  to  await 
newcomers.  But  instead  of  facing  the  shoal 
and  the  ash,  he  was  soon  eying  The  Mounds, 
the  picket  fence  enclosing  which  was  hardly  a 
stone's  throw  distant. 

The  house,  of  brownish-gray  brick,  was  large 
and  square,  two  and  a  half  stories  high,  with  a 
roof  so  flat  that  it  could  not  be  seen  over  the 
wooden  cornice.  The  mortar  showed  dingily 
that  it  had  once  been  "  pencilled  "  with  lime. 
The  cornice  had  long  ago  been  painted  white  ; 
the  outer  blinds  were  yet  green  ;  the  great 
fluted  pillars  of  the  porch,  which  were  hollow 
and  had  been  the  hiding  places  of  such  treas- 
ure as  the  family  silver  and  the  family  wheat 
during  the  Civil  War,  indicated  at  close  in- 
spection that  they  had  originally  been  painted 
in  imitation  of  marble.  About  fifty  yards  to 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  15 

one  side  was  the  small  one-story  structure 
known  as  "  the  office."  In  the  rear  of  the 
main  building,  and  connected  by  a  plank  walk, 
was  the  kitchen,  flanked  by  the  smoke-house. 
In  front  was  a  spacious  park  of  forest  trees, 
rooted  in  blue-grass,  which  was  neglected 
and  partially  covered  with  dead  leaves.  The 
ground  rolled  gently  to  the  great  "  bottom- 
less" spring,  a  beautiful  pool  of  cold  water 
that  found  its  outlet  in  the  creek  which 
Andrew  had  ascended.  The  spring  welled 
up  between  two  immense  hillocks,  covered 
with  turf  and  studded  with  trees  whose  size 
attested  the  growth  of  centuries.  These 
mounds,  relics  of  a  mysterious  prehistoric 
race,  gave  the  plantation  its  name.  At  the 
far  end  of  the  park,  gates  opened  into  a  tree- 
lined  lane,  called  Torrance  Avenue,  whose 
other  extremity  was  the  main  street  of  the 
little  town  of  Feme  Run,  a  mile  or  two  away. 
Nature  had  done  much  to  make  The  Mounds 
a  beautiful  home,  but  man  for  many  years  had 
done  little  to  aid  her. 

Except  for  the  smoke  rising  from  the  kitchen, 
the  chant  of  a  negro  song,  and  the  lazy  plaint 
of  a  washboard  somewhere  near,  there  were  no 
signs  of  life  about  the  sleepy  place  as  Andrew 


1 6  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

surveyed  it,  a  touch  of  disappointment  sober- 
ing his  usually  cheerful  face.  Then  there 
was  the  sibilant  beat  of  wings  behind  him  ; 
and,  turning  quickly,  he  discharged  bis  gun  at 
what  he  mistook  for  a  dove  flying  between 
himself  and  the  sun.  But  he  saw  almost 
instantly  that  it  was  not  a  d9ve.  A  few 
loosened  feathers  floating  in  the  air  and  the 
swerve  of  the  bird  showed  that  it  had  been  hit, 
and  as  it  continued  its  flight  and  suddenly 
dropped  in  the  high-fenced  inclosure  of  The 
Mounds  Andrew  realized  that  he  had  killed 
one  of  James  York  Torrance's  pigeons.  His 
sun-burned  face  grew  a  little  whiter  as  he 
stared  at  the  dead  bird  on  the  grass.  He  stood 
in  awe  of  James  York  Torrance.  Beyond  the 
distance-compelling  reputation  of  the  master 
of  The  Mounds,  Andrew  knew,  though  he  did 
not  understand  why,  that  being  an  Outcault 
he  was  in  particular  disfavor  with  James  York 
Torrance.  Moreover,  it  was  rumored  every- 
where that  James  York  Torrance  prized,  above 
all  his  worldly  possessions,  his  pigeons ;  and 
an  Outcault  had  shot  one  of  James  York 
Torrance's  pigeons! 

The  boy's  first  impulse  was  to  run  away, 
and  he  did  turn  as  if  to  flee ;  but  he  had  not 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  17 

taken  more  than  one  step  before  he  whirled 
and  with  a  sniff  of  sudden  resolution  went 
immediately  to  the  fence  between  him  and 
The  Mounds.  It  was  of  cedar  pickets,  ten 
feet  high,  set  deep  in  the  ground  and  close  to- 
gether, sharpened  to  points  at  the  top.  Hold- 
ing his  gun  in  one  hand,  Andrew  scaled  this 
formidable  barrier  and  dropped  to  the  ground 
on  the  other  side.  He  had  killed  one  of  James 
York  Torrance's  pigeons,  but  he  had  mistaken 
it  for  a  wild  dove ;  he  would  not  sneak  away 
like  a  marauder  or  a  coward ;  he  would  carry 
the  dead  pigeon  to  the  house  and  explain,  if 
necessary,  to  James  York  Torrance  himself, 
the  circumstances  of  the  catastrophe. 

The  pigeon  had  fallen  about  fifty  yards 
from  the  house,  and  Andrew,  just  as  he 
picked  up  the  bird,  was  transfixed  by  the 
spectacle  of  two  old  men  coming  toward  him 
from  around  the  corner  of  "  the  office."  One 
he  knew  to  be  no  less  a  personage  than  James 
York  Torrance,  white-haired,  cleanly-shaven, 
martial,  yet  walking  with  the  uncertain  steps 
of  poor  eyesight.  With  one  hand  he  was 
arranging  on  his  nose  his  glasses,  and  with 
the  other  he  carried,  as  always,  a  gold-headed 
ebony  cane.  By  his  side  was  "  Uncle  "  Bev, 


1 8  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

an  aged  negro,  as  straight  and  dignified  as  his 
master. 

"  Yonder  he  is,  Marse  Jeems  York,"  Andrew 
could  hear  the  negro  say ;  "  an'  de  young 
varmint  is  shootin'  our  pijins,  lak  I  tole  you ! " 

James  York  Torrance's  form  seemed  to 
stiffen  a  little  more,  and  his  lips  moved,  but 
Andrew  could  not  hear  the  words  that  came 
from  them. 

"  Yess  'r,"  Bev  replied,  "  he  done  kilt  one  un 
um  already  ;  he  got  it  in  his  han'  dis  minnit 
—  he  sutny  is." 

Andrew  stood  chilled  and  motionless.  He 
appeared  as  much  a  fixture  as  the  oak  by  his 
side. 

"  My  Ian ' !  Marse  Jeems  York,"  Bev  next 
exclaimed,  "  who  you  reckon  it  is  ?  Hit  —  hit 
ain't  nobody  but  dat  outdacious  Outcault  boy, 
da  's  who !  " 

They  were  only  a  few  yards  away  now,  and 
James  York  Torrance  abruptly  halted  at  these 
words  of  Bev's.  The  pink  of  apple- blossoms 
came  into  his  pale  cheeks,  and  he  dug  his 
cane  into  the  ground,  the  hand  with  which 
he  held  it  gripping  it  so  tightly  that  the 
knuckles  stood  out  bloodlessly  white,  the 
stick  trembling  in  his  clutch 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  19 

"  What  Outcault  ? "  he  asked,  in  a  voice 
so  low  that  it  was  plainly  the  result  of  an 
effort  at  self-control.  "  Not  the  son  of  Jerry 
Outcault  ? " 

"  Yess  'r ;  hit 's  des  dat  ve'y  brat !  " 

James  York  Torrance's  gentle  blue  eyes,  now 
piercingly  set  and  fiercely  magnified  behind  his 
powerful  glasses,  were  fixed  upon  Andrew  with 
what  seemed  to  the  boy  a  merciless  glare. 
Then  the  cane  of  the  old  man  was  given  an- 
other shove  further  into  the  sod  and  his  dry 
lips  contracted  as  if  shrivelled  by  heat. 

"  Come  here,  sir ! "  he  ordered,  his  usually 
sweet  tones  husky  with  repressed  emotion. 

Andrew  felt  powerless  to  stir.  There  was 
something  so  ominous  in  the  lean,  majestic 
person  of  the  speaker,  in  its  stilled  passion, 
that  the  boy  was  cowed  as  he  had  never  been 
in  all  his  life. 

"  Come  here,  sir !     Do  you  not  hear  me  ?  " 

Andrew  continued  to  stare  helplessly  at  the 
disks  of  the  ogreish  glasses.  Then  the  spell 
was  broken  by  the  lilt  of  a  young  voice 
somewhere  near,  and  like  a  flash  Andrew 
turned  his  face  from  that  of  the  man  to  the 
figure  of  a  girl  skipping  and  singing  toward 
them  over  the  lawn.  It  was  a  repetition  by 


20  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

youth  and  femininity  of  the  beautiful  old  man. 
She  was  not  more  than  ten  years  old.  She 
had  her  father's  air  of  distinction  and  blood. 
She  had  his  slender  form,  his  flat  back,  his 
long  legs,  with  the  elasticity  and  sureness  of 
motion  which  had  been  his  before  his  sight  had 
begun  to  fail.  She  had  his  firm  lips,  full  but 
not  thick,  with  a  carnation  and  dew  all  their 
own.  She  had  his  solid,  symmetrical  chin,  a 
fundamental  part  and  not  a  superfluous  append- 
age of  the  clear-cut,  sensitive  face  which  rose 
from  it  as  a  base  to  the  smooth  brow.  She 
had  hair  that  was  his  in  luxuriance,  but 
was  the  October  woods'  in  its  shadows  and 
tints.  She  had  eyes  that  were  his  only  in 
their  gentleness  and  fire,  but  in  their  color 
were  deeper,  and  in  their  colors  were  no- 
body's whose  eyes  could  be  described  one 
hour  with  words  that  would  describe  them 
the  next.  But  she  had  a  voice  that  was  not 
her  father's  —  a  voice  that  had  made  irresist- 
ible many  Torrance  women,  and  which  genera- 
tion after  generation  had  been  the  most 
unmistakable  and  purely  preserved  heritage 
of  the  Torrance  family. 

As  she  came  near,  her  laughing  eyes  looking 
in  curosity  from  Andrew  to  her  father,  her 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  21 

quick  steps  were  suddenly  checked,  and  the 
shadow  of  a  cloud  flitted  over  her  face.  It 
was  not  the  first  time  she  had  seen  that  rigid- 
ity of  his  body,  that  blaze  in  the  eyes,  those 
apple-blossoms  upon  the  wintry  cheeks.  She 
slipped  to  his  side  silently,  and  with  a  motion 
that  was  tenderly  maternal,  laid  her  hand 
upon  his  as  it  gripped  the  head  of  the  cane, 
and  raised  to  him  eyes  that  were  solicitously 
questioning.  But  he,  beyond  an  almost  im- 
perceptible start  as  she  touched  him,  betrayed 
no  consciousness  of  her  presence,  or  of  any 
presence  except  that  of  the  boy. 

At  sight  of  Victoria  Torrance  Andrew  was 
no  longer  motionless  and  speechless  in  the  pres- 
ence of  her  father.  Lifting  up  his  face  and 
flinging  back  his  shoulders,  as  he  did  some- 
times in  the  exuberance  of  vitality  when 
breasting  wind  and  rain,  he  walked  forward, 
with  the  dead  pigeon  in  his  hand,  and  stopping 
in  front  of  James  York  Torrance,  said,  in  a  voice 
whose  slight  agitation  was  the  result  more  of 
the  preceding  than  the  present  moment: 

"  I  reckon  this  is  your  pigeon,  sir.  I  was 
comin'  to  tell  you  how  it  happened." 

"  What  are  you  doing  on  this  place,  sir  ;  and 
what  do  you  mean  by  shooting  my  pigeons  ?  " 


22  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  That 's  what  I  wanted  to  tell  you,  sir.  I 
did  n't  go  to  do  it." 

There  was  a  scoffing  grunt  from  Bev,  who 
was  instantly  silenced  by  a  stern  glance  from 
James  York  Torrance. 

"  Indeed ! "  the  old  gentleman  replied  to 
Andrew.  "  Continue.  Let  us  hear  the  rest  of 
this  remarkable  story." 

"I  was  huntin'  doves  over  there  on  the 
creek,"  Andrew  went  on.  "  The  pigeon  flew 
between  me  and  the  sun  and  I  thought  it  was 
a  dove.  After  I  shot  it  I  saw  that  it  was  n't. 
It  fell  over  here  in  the  yard,  and  I  climbed  the 
fence  and  was  goin'  to  take  the  pigeon  to  the 
house  and  explain  to  somebody  how  it  was. 
That 's  all.  I  am  very  sorry,  sir." 

Bev  had  turned  away  and  the  convulsive 
heaving  of  his  shoulders  indicated  that  he  was 
struggling  to  keep  to  himself  his  keen  appre- 
ciation of  the  ridiculous.  Even  the  visage  of 
James  York  Torrance  yielded  to  a  faint  smile. 

Andrew  was  quick  to  note  these  evidences 
of  incredulity ;  his  skin  flamed,  and  a  belliger- 
ent light  kindled  in  his  eyes. 

"  Extraordinary ;  quite  extraordinary,"  was 
James  York  Torrance's  even  comment.  "  But 
you  must  see  that  it  does  not  happen  again. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  23 

If  you  kill  any  more  of  my  pigeons  I  shall  have 
to  put  you  in  the  calaboose,  and  if  I  catch  you 
on  my  place  again  I  shall  have  you  switched  by 
one  of  the  negroes." 

The  boy  appeared  to  gain  in  age  and  dignity. 
The  flame  died  out  of  his  face  ;  his  chest  slowly 
broadened;  he  looked  at  James  York  Tor- 
ranee  steadily,  with  resolute  defiance;  then  he 
dropped  to  the  ground  the  dead  pigeon  which 
he  had  been  holding  in  his  hand  and  said,  with 
a  deliberation  that  was  beyond  his  years : 

"  I  'm  sorry,  sir,  I  took  the  trouble  to  try  to 
explain  it." 

"  You  may  go  now,"  James  York  Torrance 
informed  him,  without  change  of  tone  or  man- 
ner. "  Line,  put  down  that  axe  and  come 
here"  —  this  to  a  strapping  young  negro  who 
was  crossing  the  lawn,  and  who  obeyed  with 
alacrity,  his  teeth  glistening  in  a  white  grin  as 
he  approached.  "  Take  this  boy,  Line,"  James 
York  Torrance  directed,  "  and  put  him  through 
the  gate." 

Andrew  gave  one  glance  at  Line  and  then 
turned  again  to  Mr.  Torrance. 

"  I  can  go  very  well,  sir,  without  Line,  by 
the  way  I  come." 

The  faint  smile  again   showed  in    the  old 


24  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

gentleman's  eyes  as  he  modified  his  order  to 
Line. 

"  Certainly ;  Line,  if  he  prefers  it  take  him 
and  lift  him  over  the  fence." 

Andrew  now  was  pale.  His  gun,  which  he 
was  holding  by  the  barrel,  its  stock  resting  on 
the  ground,  he  suddenly  raised  a  few  inches 
and  set  down  again  firmly. 

"  I  will  go,  Mr.  Torrance,"  he  declared  :  "  I 
will  go  myself;  but  I  won't  allow  any  of  your 
niggers  to  lay  hands  on  me." 

Line,  who  with  a  gurgling  laugh  deep  in  his 
throat  had  started  toward  Andrew,  paused,  his 
eyes  on  the  gun  ;  while  James  York  Torrance 
slightly  elevated  his  voice  as  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Why,  I  believe  the  young  scamp  is  capable 
of  murder !  " 

The  girl,  her  hand  still  on  her  father's  as  it 
held  the  cane,  took  a  sudden  step  forward, 
while  the  pink  came  and  went  in  her  fresh 
young  face. 

"  Father !  "  she  protested  impulsively.  "  He 
is  a  white  boy !  And  he  is  telling  the  truth ; 
I  am  sure  he  is  telling  the  truth  ! " 

Mr.  Torrance's  eyes  fell  to  his  daughter,  and 
they  rested  on  her  with  smiling  admiration  and 
unfathomable  love,  for  the  moment  apparently 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  25 

oblivious  of  the  trespasser.  Andrew's  eyes, 
too,  turned  to  Victoria,  and  their  defiance 
melted  into  a  softness  which  was  very  near 
tears,  and  which  might  have  been  tears  if 
there  had  not  been  in  them  something  stronger 
than  mere  gratitude. 

He  opened  his  mouth  to  speak  to  her,  but 
there  was  a  choking  paralysis  in  his  throat, 
and  he  wheeled  toward  the  fence  over  which 
he  had  climbed.  But  he  had  only  gone  a 
few  paces  when  he  abruptly  returned,  walking 
swiftly,  and,  picking  up  the  dead  pigeon,  went 
up  to  Victoria  Torrance  and  held  it  out  to  her. 

"  You  will  take  it,"  were  his  words,  confident 
and  grateful:  "you  believed  what  I  said." 

He  remembered  the  moment  as  long  as  he 
lived  —  the  radiant  face  of  the  child  grown 
deeply  grave,  the  radiant  eyes  grown  rarely 
sweet,  the  radiant  voice  grown  very  gentle  as 
she  simply  answered : 

"Yes." 

Andrew  now  left  her  as  swiftly  as  he  had 
approached  her.  He  did  not  look  back  until, 
having  reached  the  top  of  the  picket  fence,  he 
was  about  to  swing  down  on  the  other  side. 
Then  he  saw  father  and  daughter  going  slowly 
toward  the  house,  she  carrying  the  pigeon  at 


26  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

her  side,  while  the  old  gentleman  walked  by 
her,  with  one  hand  caressing  her  hair  falling 
free  to  the  shoulders,  and  laughing  with  a 
mellow  cadence  that  betrayed  no  traces  of 
the  paroxysm  of  passion  through  which  he 
had  so  recently  passed. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  27 


II 


SOMETIMES  the  periods  of  a  human  being's 
development  are  as  sharply  defined  as  the 
stratification  of  the  earth's  evolution.  When 
Andrew  Outcault  left  The  Mounds  that  after- 
noon he  had  ceased  to  be  the  boy  he  had  been 
when  he  crossed  its  boundaries  a  few  minutes 
before.  He  was  not  a  man  yet,  but  he  had 
stepped  upon  a  plane  where  the  quickening 
beams  of  coming  manhood  broke  upon  him. 
He  would  never  again  be  the  lad  content  to  idle 
away  his  days  in  pursuit  of  the  wild  things  of 
the  woods  and  water,  or  in  watching  for  the 
sight  of  a  girl.  As  he  walked  rapidly  across 
the  fields  from  The  Mounds  the  red  blood  which 
hastened  and  steadied  his  stride  surged  to  his 
head  and  rang  in  his  ears  with  the  clear  trumpet 
note  of  battle.  The  throb  of  insurrection  was 
in  his  heart*  the  new-born  sovereignty  of  will 
was  in  his  brain,  the  tension  of  combat  in  sinew 
and  nerve.  He  would  fight.  He  would  fight 
his  way  upward.  He  would  fight  down  obstruc- 
tions. He  would  fight  to  death  enemies.  No 


28  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

one  had  a  right  to  speak  to  him  with  the  con- 
tempt of  that  autocratic  old  man  at  The 
Mounds.  No  one  should  have  reason  to  mis- 
take such  a  right.  He  was  hot  in  the  memory 
of  the  man's  scorn,  he  was  thrilled  by  the 
memory  of  the  girl's  sweetness  ;  but  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  one,  appealing  to  all  that  was  best 
in  him,  and  the  scorn  of  the  other,  appealing 
to  all  that  was  fiercest,  both  invoked  in  him 
the  spirit  of  battle.  In  an  hour  and  un- 
consciously he  had  stumbled  upon  the  key  of 
nature,  which  is  conflict  and  the  dominance  of 
the  victor. 

He  walked  on,  blind  to  the  vast  reaches  of 
feathery  forest  spreading  eastward  beyond 
The  Mounds  and  merging  into  the  haze  where 
the  mystery  of  the  hills  met  the  mystery  of 
the  sky ;  the  wide  fields  to  the  northward, 
whitening  with  cotton,  sear  with  ripened  corn, 
vivid  with  young  wheat ;  the  winding  trail  of 
the  creek  to  the  northwest,  as  it  made  its  way 
through  fertile  valleys  and  darkening  ravines 
to  the  river,  which  shone  here  and  there  be- 
tween the  autumn-dyed  foliage  ;  to  the  left  of 
the  junction  of  the  two  streams,  the  sombre 
basin  of  the  "  Dead  Sea,"  above  which  even 
the  clouds  seemed  wraiths  of  desolation  ;  to  the 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  29 

west  and  southwest,  the  meadows  stretching 
away  to  the  foot  of  the  barrens ;  to  the  south, 
the  roofs  and  spires  of  the  little  embowered 
village  of  Feme  Run.  Andrew  walked  on, 
without  turning  his  head,  past  the  pool  where 
he  had  caught  the  magnolia  leaf;  into  the 
covey  of  quails  without  a  motion  to  shoot  them 
as  they  started  up  at  his  feet ;  on  across  the 
sedge  and  into  the  turnpike,  on  which,  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away,  he  lived  with  Cap'n  Pow  Halli- 
burton, who  in  war  had  served  with  Forrest's 
troopers,  and  who  in  peace  practised  law, 
farmed  on  a  small  scale,  and  made  a  home  for 
Mrs.  Rearden,  his  widowed  sister,  with  her 
little  daughter,  Janet. 

Janet,  a  large-eyed,  serious-faced  child,  was 
at  the  gate,  waiting  for  Andrew  as  he  re- 
turned. 

"What  made  you  so  late,  Andrew?"  she 
asked,  with  slow  and  grave  enunciation.  "  Did 
you  have  good  luck?  "  getting  down  from  her 
perch  and  opening  the  gate  for  him. 

"  Mighty  poor  luck,  Janet,"  he  answered ; 
"  only  brought  home  one  bird." 

"Well,  that  will  do  for  Uncle  Pow's  break- 
fast, won't  it  ? "  she  said  with  satisfied  assur- 
ance, rather  than  interrogatively.  "  Supper  is 


30  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

over,"  she  added  as  she  walked  by  his  side 
toward  the  house,  "  but  Aunt  Dilsey  is  keep- 
ing yours  warm  for  you  in  the  stove." 

"  I  don't  want  any  supper  this  evenin', 
Janet,"  Andrew  said  a  little  absently ;  "  I 
don't  feel  hungry  a  bit." 

Janet's  big  eyes  grew  bigger  as  she  looked 
him  over  with  sudden  concern.  "Then  you  must 
be  sick,  Andrew,"  she  announced,  with  an  air 
of  finality.  "  You  must  come  right  straight  to 
mamma  and  let  her  give  you  some  medicine." 

If  it  had  been  anybody  but  Janet,  Andrew 
would  have  laughed  outright.  He  turned,  to 
hide  his  smile,  with  the  pretence  of  kicking  a 
barrel-hoop  from  the  path  as  he  replied : 

"Now,  never  you  mind,  Janet.  I  am  not 
sick  at  all.  I'm  just  not  hungry." 

"Aunt"  Dilsey  was  even  more  moved  than 
Janet  by  Andrew's  declination  of  supper.  "  I 
ain't  nuvver  seed  dat  happen  befo', "  she  de- 
clared. "Dat  boy  he  sutny  is  ailin',  er  he 
done  been  in  somebody's  apple-tree  an'  gawge 
hisse'f,  one  er  t'other.  An'  we  got  fried 
chicken  an'  batter-cakes  fer  supper,  too,  an'  I 
done  kep'  'em  hot.  No,  sir !  tain't  no  apple- 
tree,"  she  concluded.  "  He  gwiner  have  a 
spell  er  sickness;  he  nuvver  could  er-stuff 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  31 

hisse'f  so  full  er  apples  an'  sich  truck  whut 
he  could  n't  stan'  a  passel  mo'  er  chicken  an' 
batter-cakes." 

Later,  that  evening,  Andrew  took  a  seat  on 
the  steps  of  the  front  veranda,  a  few  feet  from 
Cap'n  Pow,  who  was  sitting  in  his  usual  place, 
his  chair  tilted  back  and  his  feet  hanging  over 
the  railing. 

Andrew,  slowly  swinging  his  hat  between 
his  knees,  seemed  to  study  in  silence  the  asters 
that  fringed  the  gravelled  walk  before  him.  As 
Cap'n  Pow  glanced  at  him  a  second  time,  the 
hand  which  was  meditatively  descending  over 
Cap'n  Pow's  beard  stopped  midway  its  course 
and  his  eyes  remained  fixed  a  little  curiously 
upon  the  boy. 

It  was  then  that  Andrew,  slapping  his  hat 
against  his  leg,  turned  abruptly  toward  Cap'n 
Pow  and  asked  : 

"  Cap'n  Pow,  how  long  have  I  been  livin' 
with  you  ? " 

Cap'n  Pow  looked  at  the  lad  quizzically  a 
moment  before  replying.  "I  reckon  your 
memory  don't  carry  quite  that  far  back,  does 
it,  Andrew  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  voice  which  might 
be  described  as  having  in  it  the  same  twinkle 
that  his  eyes  had. 


32  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  Well,  sir,  I  remember  the  time  I  come,  but 
I  don't  remember  how  long  ago  it  was.  It 
was  not  long  before  that  spring  when  old 
Moujik  took  up  with  us."  Moujik  was  one  of 
the  vagrant  dogs  that  Cap'n  Pow  was  in  the 
habit  of  giving  a  home. 

"Let  me  see,"  Cap'n  Pow  reflected,  "it 
must  be  about  five  years,  Andrew;  yes,  it  will 
be  five  years  next  January." 

"  I  remember  it  was  when  my  father  went 
away.  Cap'n  Pow,  why  don't  people  ever  say 
anything  to  me  about  my  father,  unless  it 's 
somethin'  bad  ? " 

Cap'n  Pow  looked  off  down  the  pike,  ap- 
parently interested  in  the  song  a  couple  of 
negroes  were  singing  as  they  sat  on  the 
fence.  "  Don't  they  ?  "  he  asked,  with  af- 
fected indifference. 

"  No,  sir  ;  there  was  Cale  Pelton,  he 
throwed  it  up  to  me  one  time  that  my  father 
had  run  away  to  keep  from  bein'  put  in  the 
penitentiary." 

"Um  !  "  Cap'n  Pow  again  turned  to  Andrew. 
"  That  was  the  time  Cale  got  his  eye  closed 
and  his  shoulder  dislocated,  was  n't  it  ? " 

"  Well,  sir,  I  was  n't  goin'  to  let  him  talk 
that  way.  And  another  time,  when  I  was 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  33 

takin'  a  short  cut  through  The  Mounds  beech- 
woods  one  day,  I  met  old  Uncle  Bev,  and  he 
fired  up  and  said  if  Mr.  James  York  Torrance 
ever  caught  a  son  of  Jerry  Outcault  on  that 
plantation  he  would  wear  him  out.  Cap'n 
Pow,  what  is  it  Mr.  Torrance  has  against  my 
father?" 

Cap'n  Pow,  perhaps  for  the  first  time  since 
Andrew  had  known  him,  seemed  at  a  loss  for 
a  prompt  reply.  He  nervously  threaded  his 
beard  with  his  fingers  for  some  seconds  before 
he  spoke.  "  Well,  Andrew,"  he  finally  said 
more  slowly  than  was  his  wont  and  with  a  new 
kindness  in  his  tones,  "  I  have  always  intended 
to  tell  you  the  straight  about  that  when  you 
got  old  enough  —  for  somebody  would  be  bound 
to  tell  you  the  crooked  of  it  sooner  or  later  — 
and  I  reckon  you  are  old  enough  now." 


34  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


III 


THE  story  which  Cap'n  Pow  told  to  Andrew  is 
given  here,  but  not  in  Cap'n  Pow's  words,  for 
the  elaborations  and  elisions  which  he  deemed 
it  advisable  to  make  were  not  altogether  such 
as  are  necessary  to  a  comprehension  of  the 
circumstances  by  a  non-resident  of  Feme 
Run  or  its  vicinage. 

Middle  Tennessee,  according  to  Cap'n  Pow, 
was  well  named,  not  only  as  being  midway 
between  the  eastern  and  western  sections  of 
the  State,  but  as  being  "  the  very  centre  of  this 
world  and  maybe  the  next."  This  rolling  pla- 
teau, lying  between  the  alluvial  levels  of  West 
Tennessee  and  the  mountainous  region  of  East 
Tennessee,  is  richly  favored  by  nature,  yielding 
abundantly  side  by  side  many  of  the  products 
of  the  far  South  and  most  of  those  of  the  higher 
latitudes  of  North  America.  In  one  of  the 
first  settled  counties  of  this  part  of  the  State,  a 
county  as  yet  unbroken  by  a  railroad,  was  Feme 
Run.  The  village  had  been  founded  by  Hilary 
Feme,  who  had  been  a  member  of  the  little 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  35 

band  of  pioneers  who,  having  committed  their 
wives  and  children  to  the  perils  of  a  long 
voyage  by  river,  between  banks  of  ambushing 
savages,  had  pushed  on  westward  through  the 
still  greater  perils  of  an  unexplored  wilderness 
to  the  shores  of  the  Cumberland,  where  they 
established,  at  the  point  now  known  as  Nash- 
ville, the  nucleus  of  the  civilization  that  ulti- 
mately redeemed  an  empire  from  barbarism. 
Feme  Run  had  never  done  much  more  than 
come  into  the  world  and  nestle  contentedly 
in  a  pretty  nook  of  it.  It  was  a  town  of  old 
families  and  old  memories;  a  town  whose 
grandfathers  in  the  shaded  serenity  of  the 
cemetery  counted  for  more  than  its  grandsons 
in  the  shaded  serenity  of  the  streets.  For 
most  of  the  grandsons,  when  they  set  forth  for 
themselves,  left  Feme  Run  for  the  cities,  or 
Texas,  or  the  West ;  the  result  being  that  when 
the  pronouns  "  she  "  and  "  her  "  were  employed 
in  the  personification  of  the  village  it  was  with 
more  than  ordinary  appropriateness.  Feme 
Run  was  predominantly  feminine  in  population. 
Young  girls  with  arms  around  each  other 
strolled  up  and  down  its  sidewalks,  their  con- 
fidences infrequently  disturbed  by  masculine 
intrusion.  They  flitted  among  the  flowers  of 


36  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

the  front  yards  at  dusk  and  chattered  on  the 
front  porches  of  evenings,  in  gardens  that 
were  Adamless.  They  rustled  into  church 
—  every  one  of  them  —  on  Sunday,  and  filled 
it  with  their  simple  finery,  delicately  fra- 
grant of  orris  or  of  newness,  almost  submerg- 
ing from  sight  the  few  males  that  dotted 
the  congregation.  In  winter,  besides  the 
church,  at  all  times  their  chief  resource,  they 
had  their  reading  club  and  an  occasional  after- 
noon tea,  while  there  was  always  the  exhaust- 
less  privilege  of  spending  the  night  with  each 
other.  As  they  grew  older,  their  slender 
waists  becoming  less  pliant  and  their  soft 
voices  becoming  richer  with  the  burden  of 
unexpended  maternity,  they  took  more  to 
church  work;  they  sewed  much  and  exqui- 
sitely; they  made  delicious  things  of  fruits 
and  sugar,  of  eggs,  butter,  and  flour;  and 
they  fondled  little  children  with  a  tenderness 
beyond  the  comprehension  of  most  men  and 
some  mothers.  Lovely  in  spirit  and  person, 
gentle,  refined,  uncomplaining,  there  are  many 
such  women  as  those  of  Feme  Run,  whose 
lives,  incomplete  though  they  may  be,  are  yet 
so  contented,  beneficent,  and  beautiful  that  they 
ought  to  convince  all  men  of  the  exaggeration 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  37 

of  their  own  self-estimated  importance  in  the 
plan  of  existence. 

In  a  community  which  lived  so  much  within 
itself  and  so  much  in  the  past,  and  whose  con 
stituents,  from  the  freed  slaves  and  the  thrift- 
less "  poor  whites,"  up  —  a  long  way  up  —  to 
the  leisurely  artisans,  tradesmen,  and  small 
farmers,  and  up  another  long  way  to  the  landed 
aristocracy  of  the  "  old  families "  and  once 
wealthy  planters,  class  distinctions  were  clearly 
defined.  There  was  an  unquestioning  defer- 
ence of  the  lower  class  to  the  higher,  and  there 
was  an  inoffensive  assumption  of  superiority 
by  the  higher  in  its  relations  to  the  lower; 
though  these  demarcations  were  somewhat  like 
fissures  in  the  rocky  bed  of  a  stream,  rather 
than  like  dams,  visible,  but  not  dividing,  the 
water.  The  demarcations  of  class  among 
these  people  were  ever  visible,  but  they  were 
overflowed  by  common  brotherhood  —  pro- 
vided each  member  of  a  class  always  kept 
his  place. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  being  hostilely  envious 
of  such  families  as  the  Femes  and  the  Tor- 
ranees,  the  people  of  Torrance  County  were 
proud  of  them  :  proud  of  their  breeding,  their 
history,  their  physical  distinction,  their  classical 


38  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

culture,  their  estates.  The  James  York  Tor- 
ranee  for  whom  the  county  was  named  had 
been  one  of  the  pioneers  who  founded  "the 
State  of  Franklin,"  and  before  pushing  on 
to  Middle  Tennessee  had  been  one  of  that 
dauntless  band  of"  Backwater  Men  "  in  which 
every  member  was  a  leader  and  which,  riding 
night  and  day  through  the  mountain  wilds, 
tireless  and  irresistible,  fell  upon  and  crushed 
the  British  at  King's  Mountain  with  such 
splendid  valor  that  it  turned  back  the  fast  ad- 
vancing tide  of  invasion,  to  recede  northward 
and  eastward  until  it  broke  and  spent  itself  at 
the  very  foot  of  the  throne  of  the  fatuous 
George.  In  honor  of  this  heroic  exploit  of  the 
"  Backwater  Men,"  —  an  exploit  which  illus- 
trated then,  as  has  been  illustrated  many  a  time 
before  and  since,  the  rugged  hardihood  and 
above  all  the  individual  resourcefulness  that 
make  the  American  alike  the  best  pioneer  and 
the  best  soldier,  —  the  original  Torrance  plan- 
tation in  Torrance  County  had  been  called 
Backwater.  Here  the  James  York  Torrances 
had  lived  one  generation  after  another  until  the 
present  representative  of  the  name  had  sacri- 
ficed the  property  to  satisfy  debts  that  he  had 
assumed,  debts  the  incurrence  of  which  consti- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  39 

tuted  the  basis  of  the  story  which  Cap'n  Pow 
told  to  Andrew  Outcault. 

This  James  York  Torrance  was  a  very 
"proud"  man,  —  though  not  arrogantly  or  pat- 
ronizingly so, — and  was  acutely  sensitive  in  the 
conception  and  maintenance  of  the  honor  and 
responsibilities  he  believed  to  be  his  heritage. 
Reserved  almost  to  the  point  of  austerity,  with 
a  never-lapsing  dignity  that  sat  well  upon  his 
strongly  marked  face  and  straight  figure,  he  was 
yet  punctiliously  gracious  in  his  bearing  to- 
ward his  "  inferiors,"  never  failing  to  speak  to 
them  courteously  whenever  he  met  them  or  to 
exchange  the  conventionalities  of  the  day  with 
them  when  he  found  himself  in  their  presence. 
But  he  mingled  little  with  men.  Daily  he  rode, 
and  latterly  he  drove  or  was  driven  by  Bev, 
into  the  village  at  the  mail  hour,  and  occasion- 
ally he  would  make  a  purchase  at  some  one  of 
the  sleepy  "  stores ;  "  but  beyond  this  he  was 
seldom  seen  away  from  his  own  home.  He  had 
no  intimates,  not  even  in  his  family,  except  per- 
haps his  daughter  Victoria  —  his  second  wife, 
Victoria's  mother,  having  died,  and  the  son  to 
whom  he  had  given  his  name  having  fallen  at 
Shiloh.  The  death  of  James  York  Torrance, 
Jr.,  bore  heavily  upon  the  old  man.  There  had 


40  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

always  been  a  James  York  Torrance  since  the 
first  one,  and  the  present  James  York  Torrance 
cherished  and  watched  over  his  younger  son, 
Lee,  with  a  solicitude  born  more  of  anxiety 
that  he  should  live  to  perpetuate  the  name  than 
of  any  excessive  fondness  for  the  boy  himself. 

The  weight  of  that  name  seemed  to  be  as 
well  recognized  by  others  as  by  himself.  No 
one  ever  called  James  York  Torrance  any- 
thing but  James  York  Torrance.  It  would 
have  seemed  as  incongruous  to  speak  of  him 
as  Torrance,  or  James  Torrance,  or  J.  Y.  Tor- 
rance, as  to  speak  of  or  to  him  as  Jim. 
There  was  a  vague  impression  among  the 
gossips  that  the  family  tree  was  rooted  in 
royalty,  and  Andrew  Outcault  once  heard 
Cap'n  Pow  explaining  to  a  neighbor  how  this 
might  be,  as  it  was  said  that  the  James  York 
Torrances  descended  from  that  Duke  of  Ber- 
wick who  died  at  Philippsburg,  and  through 
him  from  James  of  York,  who  figures  in 
history  as  James  II.  Thereupon  Andrew 
searched  fuller  details  of  this  illustrious  family, 
in  Cap'n  Pow's  books,  and  his  unsophisticated 
mind  was  so  shocked  at  the  nature  of  the 
connecting  link  between  James  of  Berwick 
and  James  of  York  that  he  soon  afterwards 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  41 

thrashed  the  shirt  from  the  back  of  Rody 
Bumpus,  the  crack  shinny  player  of  Feme 
Run,  for  boasting  that  Victoria  Torrance 
"  come  down  from  a  king." 

The  Civil  War  left  James  York  Torrance 
"  land-poor."  With  his  slaves  gone  and  no 
reliable  labor  to  take  their  place,  and  with  no 
practical  experience  as  a  "  manager  "  himself  — 
for  Backwater  had  always  been  run  by  an  over- 
seer—  James  York  Torrance  was  for  a  time 
in  straits  to  preserve  even  the  appearance 
of  sustaining  the  traditions  of  the  Torrance 
family.  The  place  had  grown  up  in  weeds, 
most  of  the  fencing  had  disappeared,  and  the 
fields  that  once  had  been  white  with  cotton 
were  now  the  grazing  ground  of  the  Feme 
Run  cows ;  while  the  master  who  before  the 
war  had  lived  in  such  lordly  ease  was  now  so 
"  reduced  in  circumstances  "  that  Little  Ony 
Swango,  the  one  man  in  the  neighborhood 
totally  devoid  of  reverence  for  ancestral  an- 
tiquity and  social  station,  swore  that  James 
York  Torrance  —  even  Little  Ony  called  him 
James  York  Torrance  —  was  so  run  down  at 
the  heels  and  run  out  at  the  elbows  that  he 
carried  the  family  sugar  and  coffee  from  town 
in  his  saddle-bags. 


42  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

This  went  on  for  a  year  or  two,  when  Jerry 
Outcault  drifted  in  from  nobody  knew  where 
and  made  an  arrangement  with  Mr.  Torrance 
to  cultivate  part  of  the  Backwater  land  "  on 
shares."  Jerry  was  a  "  shifty "  sort  of  man. 
He  had  most  of  the  fences  rebuilt  the  first 
winter,  and  when  he  sold  his  crop  he  went 
off  North  and  came  back  with  a  lot  of  "  new 
contraptions "  in  harrows  and  ploughs  that 
set  the  countryside  agog.  At  the  end  of 
three  years  he  had,  Little  Ony  Swango  ad- 
mitted, not  only  "  pulled  Backwater  outn  the 
woods  and  the  weeds,"  but  he  had  enabled 
James  York  Torrance  to  "  do  his  groceryin' 
by  the  barrel  stidder  the  bag."  More  than 
that,  he  seemed  to  have  gained,  as  no  one  had 
ever  done  before,  the  confidence  of  James 
York  Torrance;  and  when  he  completed  his 
invention  of  the  wonderful  cotton-picker  and 
explained  the  model  to  Mr.  Torrance,  that 
unworldly  old  gentleman  had  so  much  faith 
in  the  inventor  that  in  the  end  he  allowed 
himself  to  be  drawn  into  a  scheme  for  organ- 
izing a  great  stock  company  to  manufacture 
the  machine.  Undoubtedly  there  would  be  a 
fortune  in  it  if  it  should  be  a  success,  and 
it  was  not  hard  for  Jerry  Outcault  to  con- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  43 

vince  him  that  it  would  be  a  success.  It  was 
much  harder  to  overcome  the  prejudices  of 
James  York  Torrance  against  engaging  in 
business,  but  the  memory  of  his  recent  adver- 
sity and  the  realization  of  the  new  order  of 
things  in  the  South  were  strong  aids  to  Jerry's 
arguments.  "  You  see,  Mr.  Torrance,"  he 
said,  "  you  don't  have  to  do  anything  but 
consent  to  be  president  of  the  company.  We 
got  to  get  up  a  company  because  we  have  n't 
got  the  money  to  start  the  thing  ourselves. 
Now,  the  people  don't  know  me,  but  they  do 
know  you.  Your  word  is  gospel  in  this 
county.  All  I  want,  when  I  go  to  a  man  and 
ask  him  to  subscribe  for  stock,  is  to  be  able 
to  say  that  you  are  at  the  head  of  the  concern, 
and  to  print  your  name  on  the  prospectus.  If 
you  are  not  dead  certain  that  the  picker  is 
a  good  thing  —  the  best  thing  of  the  century 
—  don't  you  touch  it,  Mr.  Torrance.  But  you 
take  your  time  to  investigate  it  before  you  go 
into  it.  That 's  all  I  ask." 

The  result  was  that  Jerry  Outcault  had  his 
way ;  the  name  of  James  York  Torrance  went 
on  the  prospectus  of  the  Outcault  Cotton- 
Picker  Manufacturing  Company  ;  several  thou- 
sand dollars  of  his  money,  derived  mostly  from 


44  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

the  sale  of  part  of  his  land,  went  into  the  com- 
pany's treasury  ;  and  on  the  strength  of  this 
a  hundred  men  and  women  in  Torrance  County 
eagerly  paid  from  ten  to  a  thousand  dollars 
for  the  company's  stock,  notwithstanding  the 
open  scoffs  of  Little  Ony  Swango. 

It  was  not  long  before  Ony  was  vindicated. 
The  company  was  duly  organized  with  James 
York  Torrance  as  nominal  President,  half  a 
dozen  farmers,  who  could  not  have  explained 
the  difference  between  stocks  and  bonds,  as 
"  Directors,"  and  J.  Outcault,  the  only  man 
who  knew  anything  about  the  Outcault  Cotton- 
Picker,  as  General  Manager,  Secretary,  and 
Treasurer.  Half  cash,  amounting  to  about 
$40,000,  was  paid  in  for  the  stock ;  and  when 
the  General  Manager,  Secretary,  and  Treasurer 
went  North  and  drew  this  out  to  buy  the 
machinery  for  the  plant,  and  neither  he  nor 
the  machinery  could  be  traced  thereafter,  a 
hundred  men  and  women  of  Torrance  County 
awoke  to  the  fact  that  they  had  been  deliber- 
ately swindled. 

That  was  a  tragedy  in  the  life  of  James 
York  Torrance  such  as  had  never  been 
dreamed  of  by  him  or  any  of  his  progenitors. 
Few  calamities  could  have  been  more  horrify- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  45 

ing  to  him  than  the  realization  that  he,  of  all 
men,  had  lent  his  name  to  the  perpetration 
of  so  base  a  fraud  upon  the  people  who  hon- 
ored and  trusted  him.  For  a  time  he  dis- 
appeared from  public  view  altogether,  and 
when  he  was  seen  again  on  his  trips  to  the 
post-office  or  to  his  lawyer  the  change  in  him 
was  the  subject  of  general  remark.  His  hair 
was  a  little  whiter;  his  skin  a  little  paler; 
his  face  had  lost  something  of  its  sensitive 
mobility  and  gained  more  of  the  sharpness 
of  cut  stone ;  instead  of  the  courteous  salu- 
tation with  which  he  was  wont  to  greet  all, 
he  now  looked  to  neither  side,  but  went  his 
solitary  way,  his  head  high,  his  eyes  appar- 
ently seeing  only  inwardly  and  emptily.  Oc- 
casionally when  some  of  the  bolder  among 
those  who  knew  him  forced  their  presence 
upon  him  and  offered  a  passing  commonplace 
in  a  tone  of  sympathy,  he  would  flush  pain- 
fully, his  voice  would  waver  in  reply,  and  he 
would  hurry  on,  sometimes,  it  was  said,  with 
a  tear  gathering  under  his  glasses. 

The  result  of  his  conferences  with  his 
lawyer  was  that  by  giving  Backwater  as  se- 
curity he  borrowed  enough  money  from  Little 
Ony  Swango  to  return  every  dollar  that  the 


46  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

stockholders  in  the  cotton-picker  company 
had  put  up,  and  this  he  did,  notwithstanding 
the  half-hearted  demurrers  which  a  few  of 
them  made.  He  continued  to  live  at  Back- 
water, hoping  by  its  cultivation  to  extinguish 
the  debt  gradually.  Perhaps  he  would  have 
succeeded,  at  least  partially,  if  Ony  had  not 
gone  off  to  Nashville  at  a  time  when  the  fever 
for  speculating  in  cotton  "  futures "  was  at 
its  height  in  the  South.  When  Ony  returned 
he  had  to  raise  a  considerable  sum  of  money 
to  pay  the  cost  of  making  "  a  gormed  fool "  of 
himself,  and  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  sell 
his  own  home  or  foreclose  on  Backwater.  He 
foreclosed  on  Backwater,  but  it  was  a  losing 
operation.  There  was  little  money  in  the 
country  those  days,  and  it  was  disastrous  to 
put  up  realty  at  forced  sale.  It  was  agreed 
that  Backwater  was  worth  from  $75,000  to 
$100,000,  but  when  it  was  sold  under  the 
hammer  to  satisfy  Ony  Swango's  claim  of 
$30,000  it  brought  less  than  $20,000.  Where- 
upon James  York  Torrance  went  immediately 
to  Little  Ony  (he  was  called  Little  Ony  be- 
cause he  was  the  giant  of  the  county)  and 
said  with  grave  courtesy  : 

"  Mr.  Swango,  the  amount  you  realized  on 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  47 

Backwater  was  but  a  little  over  $16,000,  I 
see." 

Little  Ony  looked  at  him  silently,  in  his 
stolid  way,  before  speaking.  Then  he  answered 
in  his  sluggish,  subterranean  voice:  "  Pre- 
cise-ly  $16,465,  Mr.  Torrance." 

"  I  was  astounded  and  distressed  that  it 
was  no  more.  I  need  not  assure  you,  sir, 
that  I  shall  take  it  upon  myself  to  liquidate 
every  cent  of  my  indebtedness  to  you  at  the 
earliest  opportunity." 

The  collarless  shirt  of  Little  Ony  was  as 
usual  open  one  button  at  the  top.  He  slowly 
unfastened  the  next  button,  displaying  a  huge, 
hairy  chest,  from  whose  depths  there  rumbled 
up  a  raucous  grunt. 

"  You  don't  owe  me  nothin',  Mr.  Torrance," 
he  finally  responded. 

"  I  owe  you  the  difference  between  $16,465 
and  $30,000,  sir;  and  I  shall  pay  it  if  I  live." 

"You  don't  owe  me  nothin',  Mr.  Torrance. 
You  borrowed  some  money  from  me  an'  I 
took  Backwater  as  security.  It  was  n't  yo' 
lookout  that  it  did  n't  bring  what  it  oughter 
a-brung  when  I  sold  it.  It  would  a-brung 
mo  'n  enough  if  I  had  waited  for  a  better  time 
to  sell.  That 's  all  there  is  about  it." 


48  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  It  is  not  all,  sir.  I  have  had  your  money ; 
the  security  I  gave  you  proved  inadequate.  I 
shall  make  it  up  to  you  just  as  soon  as  I  can." 

For  the  first  time  during  the  interview  the 
old  gentleman's  voice  ascended  in  pitch,  and 
he  struck  his  cane  into  the  ground.  Little 
Ony  studied  him  longer  than  usual  before 
replying;  then  he  said,  as  if  addressing  a 
peevish  child: 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Torrance.  But  you  ain't 
goin*  to  pay  any  of  it  until  you  can  pay  the 
whole  pile.  I  don't  want  to  be  bothered  with 
no  driblets." 

"  As  you  please,  sir,"  stiffening  and  turning 
away.  "  Good-morning,  sir." 

Little  Ony  talked  it  over  with  the  first  man 
he  met.  "  James  York  Torrance  is  got  about 
as  much  business  sense  as  a  chicken,"  he  com- 
mented, "  but  he  's  a  gormed  old  game  chicken, 
though.  Anyhow,  I  reckon  I  fixed  him  by 
tellin'  him  he  'd  have  to  pay  it  in  a  lump. 
He  ain't  got  no  mo'  chanst  to  make  that  money 
than  I  have  to  fly  to  glory  with  a  pair  of  my 
ole  'oman's  turkey-wing  fans." 

When  James  York  Torrance  left  Backwater 
he  took  up  his  residence  at  The  Mounds,  a 
much  smaller  place,  which  had  been  left  to  him 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  49 

by  his  second  wife  in  trust  for  their  daughter, 
Victoria.  Here  he  lived  with  Victoria,  to- 
gether with  the  children  of  his  first  marriage, 
Lee  and  Clara,  and  his  spinster  cousin,  Miss 
Juliana  Torrance.  Here,  with  Bev  as  the  real 
executive,  he  managed  the  farm,  accounting 
into  court  a  fair  rental  for  Victoria's  benefit, 
and  hoarding  the  remainder  of  his  income, 
when  there  was  any  remainder,  for  the  ultimate 
payment  of  Ony  Swango. 

Here,  more  secluded  from  the  world  than 
ever,  he  sat  under  the  trees  and  watched  his 
pigeons,  while  Victoria  read  to  him  his  paper 
or  his  Macaulay,  or  Bev  made  his  reports  and 
gave  his  counsel.  It  was  a  placid  life  with  his 
paper  and  his  pigeons,  externally  at  least, 
though  what  his  meditations  were  as  he  sat 
sometimes  for  hours  motionless  and  wordless, 
no  one  knew.  But  always  the  delicate  pink 
came  into  his  face  and  the  knuckles  grew 
white  if  by  any  chance  Jerry  Outcault  was 
mentioned. 

Andrew  sat  long  in  silence  after  he   had 

heard  the  story  of  his  father  and  James  York 

Torrance.     His   elbows  were   planted   on   his 

knees  and   his  jaws    rested   in   his   hands  as 

4 


50  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

he  studied  the  steps  beneath  him.  Once  or 
twice  Cap'n  Pow,  stroking  his  beard  musingly, 
glanced  uncertainly  at  the  boy,  recognizing  in 
him  some  unwonted  mood.  Suddenly  a  breeze 
rustled  through  the  shrubbery,  a  shutter 
banged  somewhere,  and  Andrew,  jerking  him- 
self upright,  turned  to  Cap'n  Pow  again. 

"  Cap'n  Pow,"  he  said,  "  my  father  went 
away  and  left  me  by  myself,  did  n't  he?  " 

"  Well,  Andrew,  he  —  well,  yes,  yes,  he  did, 
Andrew." 

"  And  you  brought  me  here  and  took  care  of 
me,  did  n't  you?" 

"  Why,  of  course,  of  course,  Andrew.  I 
did  n't  have  any  son,  and  I  liked  you  and  your 
father,  too." 

"  And  you  've  give  me  a  home  and  been 
good  to  me  all  this  time,  just  like  you  have  to 
old  Moujik ! " 

Cap'n  Pow  laughed  —  his  laugh  was  loud 
and  melodious,  but  there  was  something  foreign 
and  strained  in  it  now.  "You  and  Moujik!" 
he  exclaimed.  "  Why,  boy,  boy,  this  would 
have  been  a  terrible  lonesome  place  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  you  and  Moujik  and  Janet." 

There  were  tears  in  the  lad's  eyes  which 
Cap'n  Pow  did  not  see,  and  would  not  have 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  51 

seen  if  he  could.  "  Cap'n  Pow,"  Andrew  went 
on,  "you  have  been  better  to  me  than  if  I  were 
your  own  son,  and  I  haven't  done  nothin' 
much  except  play  and  hunt  and  fish  and  read 
them  story-books  in  your  library.  I  'm  big 
enough  to  go  to  work  sure  enough  now,  and  I 
want  to  begin." 

"  Work  !  Why,  you  do  more  work  already 
than  any  nigger  on  the  place,  and  you  are 
worth  more  than  any  two  hands  I  've  got." 

"  I  want  to  go  to  work  regular,  Cap'n  Pow. 
I  want  to  work  all  day,  and  all  spring  and  sum- 
mer and  fall,  till  the  crops  are  in ;  then  if  I  'm 
worth  anything  more  than  my  board  I  want  to 
go  to  the  Academy  in  Feme  Run.  If  you 
don't  need  me  that  way,  I  want  you  to  hire  me 
out  to  somebody  else." 

Cap'n  Pow  gave  his  beard  a  sudden  jerk 
which  must  have  unrooted  some  strands  of  it, 
and  he  rose  impulsively  and  went  over  to 
Andrew,  who,  seeing  this  unusual  action  of  his 
benefactor,  also  got  up.  "  My  boy  !  my  boy  !  " 
and  Cap'n  Pow's  normally  high  voice  was  now 
somewhat  muffled  in  his  throat,  "you're  a 
better  farmer  now  than  I  am,  and  this  place 
could  spare  me  a  long  sight  easier  than  it  could 
you.  You  shall  have  all  the  work  you  ought 


52  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

to  do,  and  that  will  be  twice  as  much  as  your 
board  and  the  Academy  will  come  to.  You 
shall  have  wages  just  like  any  other  hand — 
just  like  any  other  man  —  for  you  are  a  man, 
Andrew,  and  I  ought  to  have  found  it  out 
sooner ;  "  and  with  his  arm  around  Andrew's 
shoulders,  the  two  went  into  the  house. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  53 


IV 


ONE  who  did  not  know  Andrew  as  well  as 
Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton  knew  him  might  have 
taken  it  for  granted  that  the  boy's  sudden 
desire  for  work  would  pass,  or  at  least  re- 
lax, with  a  night's  sleep.  But,  young  as  he 
was,  neither  Andrew's  desires  nor  resolutions 
passed  or  relaxed  quickly;  and  at  the  end  of 
three  years  he  had  so  persisted  in  his  "fit 
of  industry,"  as  Mrs.  Rearden  had  at  first 
called  it,  that  many  a  time  he  had  been  too 
busy  to  hurry  off  to  Feme  Run  for  a  new 
medicine  which  she  had  discovered  in  the 
newspaper  advertisements,  and  that  lady  had 
consequently  been  threatened  many  a  time 
with  extinction  by  horrible  new  diseases  which, 
her  reading  revealed  to  her,  were  preying  upon 
her  grievously  afflicted  body  and  mind.  Cap'n 
Pow  had  been  right  when  he  said  that  Andrew 
was  the  better  farmer;  and  he  had  now  prac- 
tically turned  over  the  farm  to  the  boy,  the  cap- 
tain himself  spending  most  of  his  time  in  Feme 


54  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Run ;  mixing  with  the  residents  or  the  country- 
men in  town  for  the  day ;  sitting  in  the  court- 
room, watching  the  progress  of  the  cases  on 
trial,  laughing  with  the  lawyers,  twitting  the 
judge,  and  occasionally  when  he  appeared  as 
attorney  in  a  case  himself  firing  up  into  such  a 
crackling  conflagration  of  wrath  that  the  idle 
clerks  in  the  stores  hurried  across  the  "  square  " 
to  see  "  Cap'n  Povv  perform ;  "  and  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  later  loafing  in  a  law-office  or  under 
the  trees  in  front  of  it,  telling  funny  anecdotes 
or  winning  the  war  for  the  Confederacy  if 
Forrest  had  only  been  in  command  at  Fort 
Donelson. 

Andrew  had  faithfully  carried  out  the  plan 
which  he  had  proposed  on  the  night  that  Cap'n 
Pow  had  related  to  him  the  story  of  his  father 
and  James  York  Torrance.  With  an  energy 
that  kept  Aunt  Dilsey  in  interjectional  ad- 
miration of  his  appetite,  that  impressed  itself 
upon  the  neighbors  and  the  leisurely  black  farm- 
hands he  directed,  and  won  the  open  commen- 
dation of  Little  Ony  Swango,  considered  the 
most  progressive  man  thereabout,  Andrew  made 
and  harvested  Cap'n  Pow's  crops,  and  in  the  late 
fall  and  the  winter  grubbed  away  doggedly  at 
the  Feme  Run  Academy.  Not  once  in  all  the 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  55 

three  years  had  he  gone  across  the  fields,  up  the 
spring-branch,  toward  The  Mounds.  He  saw 
Victoria  Torrance  seldom,  except  at  church; 
but  he  was  a  regular  attendant  of  the  church 
in  which  the  Torrances  occupied  a  high-backed 
pew.  The  Torrance  pew  was  well  forward,. on 
the  central  aisle,  and  Andrew  chose  his  seat 
in  the  rear,  on  one  of  the  side  aisles,  from 
which  point  he  could  keep  his  eyes  on  the 
head,  an  ear,  a  cheek,  and  occasionally  the  full 
profile  of  Victoria  Torrance,  without  arousing 
the  suspicion  of  the  sharp-eyed  congregation. 
He  was  free  to  select  his  own  seat,  for  Cap'n 
Pow,  accompanied  by  Janet,  always  went  to 
another  church,  in  whose  choir  A  Certain  Lady 
helped  to  sing,  in  a  thin,  sweet  soprano, 
"  Gently  down  the  stream  of  time,"  adapted 
to  the  appropriated  score  of  the  great  Lucia 
sextet. 

In  these  three  years  Andrew  had  been  but 
once  nearer  Victoria  Torrance  than  he  was 
when  in  his  back-seat  at  church.  That  was 
the  day  when,  driving  with  Janet  Rearden  to 
Feme  Run,  they  met  the  old  Torrance  carriage, 
and  Victoria,  leaning  through  the  window,  said 
with  the  dignity  of  thirteen  and  the  rare  voice 
of  the  Torrance  women : 


56  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  Good-morning,  Janet ;  good-morning,  An- 
drew." 

Miss  Juliana  Torrance,  by  Victoria's  side, 
looked  chill  disapprobation,  and  Bev,  on  the 
box,  sat  more  rigidly  and  cracked  his  whip 
viciously  at  a  fly  on  the  withers  of  the  off 
horse. 

Minutes  afterwards  Janet  said  quietly,  as  if 
she  had  made  a  discovery: 

"  What  a  beautiful  name  Andrew  is  !  " 

Andrew  shook  up  his  horse,  cutting  off  a 
laugh  at  its  beginning.  "  It  does  sound  well," 
he  answered.  Then  he  gave  a  ringing  cry  to 
the  horse,  whistled  the  whip  over  the  animal's 
head,  and  dashed  into  Feme  Run  at  a  speed 
that  brought  Janet's  hand  to  her  hat  and  made 
the  chickens  take  wing  in  clattering  panic  from 
the  roadside. 

That  was  the  last  time  for  many  months  that 
Victoria  Torrance  spoke  to  Andrew  when  she 
met  him.  For  it  happened  that  when  he  next 
saw  Victoria  it  was  at  a  moment  when  a  young 
girl  of  spirit  and  a  budding  realization  of  the 
responsibilities  accompanying  a  gradual  length- 
ening of  her  skirts  would  naturally  resent  an 
unexpected  invasion  by  masculine  eyes.  It 
was  on  a  Saturday  afternoon,  a  half-holiday, 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  57 

when,  the  negroes  having  gone  off  to  Feme 
Run,  nobody  was  left  at  Cap'n  Pow  Hallibur- 
ton's  except  the  Reardens  and  Andrew.  Mrs. 
Rearden,  having  just  read  the  advertisements 
in  the  last  number  of  the  Feme  Run  Recorder, 
had  suddenly  become  possessed  of  a  terrifying 
case  of  atrophia  musculorum  lipomatosa,  which 
only  Dr.  Quobb's  Wizard  Triturate  of  Black- 
bryony  would  cure,  and  there  was  nothing  for 
Andrew  to  do  but  go  to  Feme  Run  with  a 
dollar  to  secure  a  bottle.  All  the  horses  had 
been  turned  out  to  pasture,  and  Andrew  chose 
to  walk.  There  was  a  short  cut  from  the  pike, 
across  the  fields,  to  the  head  of  Torrance 
Avenue,  which  Andrew  had  not  taken  since 
he  killed  James  York  Torrance's  pigeon.  He 
took  it  this  afternoon,  whistling  gayly  until 
he  came  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  The 
Mounds.  But  he  did  not  stop  to  loiter  by  the 
creek. 

It  was  on  this  afternoon  that  Victoria 
Torrance  found  herself  in  full  possession  of 
The  Mounds.  She  had  read  to  her  father  the 
heaviest  editorial  columns  of  his  daily  paper 
(forty-eight  hours  old),  had  adjusted  his  black 
string  tie,  kissed  him  maternally,  and  watched 
him  drive  off  with  Bev;  Miss  Juliana  was  in 


58  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

her  room,  with  the  blinds  closed,  withdrawn 
from  the  waking  world  until  the  sun  sank  low 
in  the  west ;  Lee  was  away,  as  usual,  no  one 
knew  where  ;  Clara  had  gone  shopping  with 
Rosalie  Kemp,  who  would  have  preferred  to  re- 
main for  a  romp  with  Victoria  ;  while  the  ne- 
groes were  all  on  "  Smoke  Side,"  in  Feme  Run, 
a  part  of  the  public  square  of  which  the  black 
population  of  the  county  took  complete  posses- 
sion on  Saturday  afternoons,  swarming  on  the 
pavement  and  over  the  curbstones,  feasting  on 
melons,  cold  chicken  and  gingerbread,  cider, 
and  whiskey ;  trading,  roystering,  laughing, 
posing,  strutting,  dancing,  arguing,  preaching, 
expounding,  courting,  fighting,  and  occasionally 
killing,  happy  through  it  all  if  the  sun  only 
shone. 

It  was  shining  now  at  The  Mounds  as  it 
shines  only  in  early  summer  when  the  rains 
were  yesterday  or  the  day  before  ;  when  the 
skies  are  unfathomably  blue ;  when  the  crisp- 
ness  of  the  morning  is  all  the  day  long ;  when 
there  is  neither  dust  nor  haze,  but  the  vivid 
greens  of  uplands  and  fields  are  close  and 
clear,  and  every  created  thing  within  one's 
horizon  is  vibrant  with  the  common  tide  of  life. 
Even  the  dingy  walls  of  the  old  house  at  The 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  59 

Mounds  seemed  to  brighten  youthfully  in  this 
tide,  as  somewhere  the  drum  of  a  great  turkey- 
cock's  wings  throbbed  through  the  silence, 
while  the  fragrance  distilled  in  the  topmost 
branches  of  the  giant  magnolia-trees  cleft  the 
air  and  thrilled  the  nostrils  as  the  notes  of  a 
bugle  thrill  the  ear. 

Victoria  Torrance,  thirteen,  buoyant  with 
health  and  with  the  hour,  seeking  some  vent 
for  her  vitality  this  June  afternoon,  might 
have  been  capable  of  any  of  the  splendid 
things  that  have  made  the  world's  heroines  of 
history  and  romance.  As  it  was,  such  are  the 
limitations  that  hedge  modern  mortals,  find- 
ing nothing  better  to  do,  she  —  oh,  the  proud, 
proud  blood  of  all  the  long  line  of  James  York 
Torrances  !  —  she  rode  a  bicycle.  Victoria 
Torrance  on  a  bicycle !  It  was  well,  indeed, 
that  James  York  Torrance  was  far  away,  that 
Clara  Torrance  was  not  there  to  see,  that 
Miss  Juliana  Torrance's  eyes  were  veiled  in 
slumber. 

Nor  was  it  even  a  "  safety."  It  was  in  the 
days  of  the  old  "  ordinary,"  the  now  obsolete, 
high-seated  device  with  one  very  big  wheel  in 
front  and  one  very  little  wheel  behind.  It 
was  the  property  of  Lee  Torrance,  and  lean- 


60  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

ing  against  the  house  now,  was  very  con- 
spicuous in  the  sight  of  this  girl  who  for  the 
time  had  all  The  Mounds  to  herself.  Victoria 
driving  aimlessly  and  energetically  Clara's  cro- 
quet balls  over  the  lawn,  looked  at  the  bicycle, 
and  looked  at  it  again.  Soon  she  dropped  the 
croquet  mallet  and,  laughing  quickly  with  a 
new  thought,  hurried  to  the  corner  of  the 
house,  and  made  a  reconnoissance  in  the 
rear ;  after  which  she  ran  to  the  big  gate 
and  satisfied  herself  that  Torrance  Avenue 
was  entirely  deserted.  No  one  was  visible  in 
any  direction,  and  hastening  back  to  the  bi- 
cycle, she  pushed  it  to  a  horse-block  on  the 
edge  of  the  gravelled  drive.  From  the  block, 
as  the  drum  of  the  turkey-cock  detonated 
upon  her  taut  senses  like  rumbling  thunder, 
she  swung  into  the  saddle,  paling  a  little  and 
closing  her  eyes,  and  in  a  second  tumbling 
to  the  ground.  She  repeated  this  performance 
until  the  palms  of  her  hands  were  blue-dented 
from  the  gravel  and  her  dress  bore  unmistak- 
able evidence  of  the  battle.  She  was  oblivi- 
ous of  all  now,  except  her  determination  to 
master  this  thing  which  Lee  rode  so  easily 
and  so  gracefully  ;  oblivious  even  of  the  fact 
that  since  she  had  taken  her  observation 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  61 

there  had  been  sufficient  time  for  Torrance 
Avenue  to  fill  with  half  the  population  of 
Feme  Run.  Finally  she  caught  the  secret 
of  the  pedals  and  the  balance  in  a  moment, 
and  sailed  off  down  the  drive,  her  eyes  spark- 
ling, her  hair  streaming  —  sailed  off  as  if  the 
world  were  before  her  and  there  were  no  end 
to  the  world,  with  never  a  thought  that  she 
must  some  time  stop  her  elating  flight  and 
dismount,  or  how  she  was  to  do  it. 

That  was  the  vision  which  burst  upon 
Andrew  Outcault  as  he  was  vaulting  the 
fence  from  the  fields  into  Torrance  Avenue. 
But  that  was  not  all  he  saw,  for  at  that 
moment  the  automatic  gate  was  swinging 
open  for  the  phaeton  of  Rosalie  Kemp  and 
Clara  Torrance,  with  Victoria  wheeling  swiftly 
toward  them.  At  sight  of  the  phaeton,  Vic- 
toria helplessly  threw  her  weight  upon  her 
hands  as  if  she  would  check  a  horse,  and  in 
an  instant  she  and  the  bicycle  were  in  a  heap 
upon  the  ground.  Andrew  ran  forward  at 
once,  and  as  he  ran,  Rosalie  Kemp  was  already 
bending  over  Victoria  and  hysterically  kissing 
her,  while  Clara  Torrance  —  Miss  Torrance,  as 
she  preferred  to  be  called,  for  she  was  eighteen 
and  launched  upon  young  ladyhood  —  was 


62  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

standing,  her  skirts  drawn  around  her,  her 
forehead  wrinkling,  her  lips  puckering  with 
ladylike  exclamations  of  bewilderment  and 
fear. 

Before  Andrew  could  come  up,  Victoria  had 
disentangled  herself  from  the  wreck  and  got 
to  her  feet.  She  looked  from  Clara  to  Rosalie, 
a  smile,  partly  of  humiliation,  partly  of  de- 
fiance, playing  upon  her  face.  Then  she  took 
the  sobbing  Rosalie  in  her  arms  and  comforted 
her. 

"  Why,  Rosalie,  I  am  not  hurt  the  least  bit," 
she  said  reassuringly,  while  she  glanced  with 
growing  bravado  at  Clara,  who  was  now  a  statue 
of  shocked  dignity. 

Suddenly  Rosalie  began  to  laugh,  and  hold- 
ing Victoria  at  arm's  length,  looked  her  up 
and  down  and  gave  her  a  final  convulsive  em- 
brace as  she  cried  joyously: 

"  Oh,  Victoria,  are  you  sure  you  are  not 
hurt  ?  I  did  n't  know  but  you  were  killed  !  " 

Then  Miss  Clara  found  speech.  "  Indeed, 
Victoria  Torrance  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  'm 
sure  I  'd  rather  be  killed  than  do  such  a  scan- 
dalous thing !  What  would  father,  what  would 
everybody  say  if  they  knew  you  had  actually 
ridden  a  —  a  boy's  bicycle?  I  certainly  hope 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  63 

for  the  family's  sake,  if  you  have  no  shame 
yourself,  that  nobody  else  saw  you ! "  And 
Miss  Clara,  with  a  swish  of  her  skirts  that 
was  disdainful  and  intended  to  be  haughtily 
regal,  turned  to  leave  Victoria,  only  to  con- 
front Andrew  Outcault  as  he  ran  up  flushed 
and  anxious.  "  What !  "  dropping  her  voice 
in  her  new  horror.  "  What  are  you  doing 
here  ?  What  do  you  mean  by  daring  to  come 
here?" 

Victoria,  who  had  been  laughing  with  Rosa- 
lie and  at  Clara,  straightened  up  at  sight  of 
Andrew.  It  was  a  come-and-go  of  color  in  her 
face,  but  her  eyes  burned  steadily  as  she  stood 
forth  in  her  tatters. 

"  Andrew  Outcault,"  she  said,  catching  her 
breath,  and  then  going  on  uncompromis- 
ingly, "what  do  you  want?  Did  you  —  did 
you  see  ? " 

Andrew  had  a  dim  idea  that  he  was  in  an 
awkward  situation.  "I  —  I  was  crossing  over 
into  Torrance  Avenue,"  he  answered,  "and  I 
thought  maybe  you  might  be  hurt.  I  reckon 
the  wheel  is  sorter  stove  up,  anyhow."  He 
stepped  to  the  wrecked  bicycle  and  picked  it 
up,  scrutinizing  it  with  an  affectation  of  sober 
(Concern. 


64  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  I  am  not  hurt,"  Victoria  proclaimed,  with 
the  even  emphasis  of  an  oracle ;  adding,  with 
less  exaltation  of  unconcern :  "  And  you  need 
not  mind  about  the  bicycle.  Go  away !  Go 
away  at  once!" 

Clara,  her  chin  in  air  and  her  petticoats 
starchily  ejaculatory  of  her  emotion,  was 
already  walking  toward  the  house;  Victoria, 
without  looking  again  at  Andrew,  placed  her 
arm  about  Rosalie  and  followed  Clara;  while 
Andrew,  standing  where  he  was  left  and  hold- 
ing in  view  the  receding  backs  of  the  three  girls, 
was  divided  by  desires  to  protest  indignantly 
and  to  laugh.  He  compromised  by  whistling 
very  softly;  after  which,  tiptoeing  to  a  tree, 
he  set  the  bicycle  against  it  and  continued  his 
journey  down  Torrance  Avenue  to  Feme  Run. 

For  many  months  afterwards  Victoria  Tor- 
rance would  not  look  at  Andrew  when  they 
met.  When  Andrew  next  saw  her,  soon  after 
this  adventure,  she  was  again  seated  beside  Miss 
Juliana  Torrance,  this  time  in  an  open  surrey, 
and  she  ignored  him  as  coolly  and  as  obviously 
as  Miss  Juliana  herself  always  did,  to  the  evi- 
dent approval  of  Bev,  whose  smile  of  satisfac- 
tion wrinkling  his  cheek  Andrew  could,  see  as 
he  looked  back. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  65 

Andrew  did  not  smile  himself.  He  walked 
on  very  solemnly  a  quarter  of  a  mile;  then, 
coming  to  a  tree  where  the  shade  was  dense, 
he  threw  himself  down  on  the  grass  and  broke 
into  loud  laughter. 


66  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


IT  was  not  until  a  little  more  than  two  years 
later  that  Andrew  made  Victoria  Torrance 
speak  to  him  again. 

Andrew  was  now  well  in  his  nineteenth 
year,  while  Victoria  was  fifteen  and  had  already 
begun  to  be  an  interesting  subject  of  village 
gossip,  which  had  marked  out  her  and  Arthur 
Feme  as  set  apart  for  each  other  by  present 
conditions  and  past  genealogical  eons.  An- 
drew had  put  his  will  and  youthful  vigor  to 
such  good  use  that  he  had  now  about  ex- 
hausted the  course  at  the  Feme  Run  Academy 
and  was  in  complete  charge  of  affairs  at  Cap'n 
Pow  Halliburton's  farm.  It  was  another  Satur- 
day afternoon,  in  late  September,  and  the  farm 
work  was  so  well  in  hand  that  as  Andrew  saw 
his  negroes  leave  for  Smoke  Side  he  felt  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  their  attention 
was  needed  by  nothing  in  the  fields  or  the 
barns.  It  was  very  warm,  and  Andrew  struck 
out  through  the  Kemp  woods  to  a  famous 
swimming  pool  in  the  river.  Returning  about 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  67 

five  o'clock,  he  would  probably  have  taken  an- 
other and  longer  route  if  he  had  been  aware 
that  Rosalie  Kemp  had  chosen  this  afternoon 
for  her  "  cotton-picking  picnic." 

Rosalie  was  a  leading  spirit  of  the  "  younger 
set,"  and  she  did  more  than  any  one  else  to 
break  the  normal  calm  of  Feme  Run  society. 
The  cotton-picking  picnic  was  the  latest 
outcome  of  her  wits  and  activity.  She  had 
issued  the  invitations,  repeated  the  explana- 
tions, and  provided  the  lunch,  the  prizes,  and 
the  motive  enthusiasm.  She  was  not  to  blame 
that  the  day,  which,  so  late  in  September, 
ought  to  have  been  pleasant,  had  degenerated 
from  a  beautiful  morning  into  the  sultriest  of 
afternoons.  And  she  was  making  the  most 
of  her  bad  luck  when,  the  wagon  having  de- 
posited the  great  thimble-shaped  baskets  in 
the  field,  and  the  party,  merry  with  the  nov- 
elty of  the  lark  and  with  the  oddity  of  their 
improvised  working  garbs,  had  fallen  to 
with  infectious  jollity,  each  eager  to  pick  the 
greatest  weight  of  cotton  in  the  stipulated 
hour's  time  and  win  one  of  the  prizes,  only 
to  succumb  to  the  heat  one  by  one  and  re- 
tire to  the  bordering  woods.  There  they  were 
comforting  themselves  with  iced  drinks,  laugh- 


68  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

ing  lamentations,  and  an  occasional  expostu- 
latory  call  to  two  or  three  of  their  number 
who  still  remained  in  the  cotton-field,  when 
Andrew  stumbled  upon  them.  Their  laughter 
warned  him,  however,  before  any  of  them 
had  noticed  him,  and  he  retraced  his  steps 
a  short  distance  and  turned  into  the  cotton 
with  the  intention  of  cutting  across  to  the 
road  beyond.  There  was  a  slight  ridge  run- 
ning the  length  of  the  field,  and  once  over 
that  he  was  invisible  from  the  woods  where 
the  picnickers  were.  Just  before  passing 
over  the  ridge  he  noticed,  down  the  cotton- 
rows,  the  backs  of  two  pickers,  and  after 
he  had  crossed  and  walked  on  perhaps  fifty 
yards  he  was  stopped  short  by  the  appa- 
rition of  Victoria  Torrance  rising,  a  few  feet 
in  front  of  him,  from  a  stooping  posture 
among  the  waist-high  stalks,  her  hands  full  of 
the  snowy  lint. 

And  an  odd-looking  apparition  it  was.  A 
blue-and-white  checked  cotton  apron  was 
pinned  over  her  shortened  skirts,  and  her 
face  was  two-thirds  concealed  in  the  depths 
of  a  gingham  sun-bonnet.  It  was  such  a 
face  as  Andrew  had  never  seen  before.  He 
had  seen  the  beauty  of  it  many  times,  with 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  69 

hungry  eyes,  but  he  had  never  seen  the  pallor 
and  the  weariness  of  it.  The  dead  whiteness 
was  broken  only  by  the  shadowy  circles  which 
had  come  beneath  the  eyes,  and  about  the 
young  mouth  and  brow  were  lines  of  fatigue 
and  determination  which  made  the  girl  of 
fifteen  appear  more  like  a  worn  woman  years 
older.  She  drew  her  slender  figure  very 
straight  as  she  saw  Andrew,  and  she  con- 
fronted his  amazement  with  challenging  si- 
lence and  dilated  pupils. 

Andrew  for  a  little  after  he  saw  her  stood 
where  he  had  abruptly  halted.  Then  he  took 
a  quick  step  toward  her. 

"  Why,  Miss  Victoria,"  he  exclaimed,  "  what 
in  the  world  are  you  doing  here?  " 

Victoria  for  a  few  seconds  continued  to  meet 
his  questioning  gaze  with  no  response  in  ex- 
pression or  speech.  Then  she  turned  quietly 
to  a  tall  cotton-stalk  and  slowly  resumed  her 
work.  The  flare  of  her  sun-bonnet  shut  in 
her  face  from  Andrew,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
she  did  not  intend  to  make  him  any  reply. 

He  strode  nearer.  Under  the  sun-bonnet 
there  was  a  faint  smile  now,  which  he  could 
not  see,  but  he  heard  her  very  distinctly  as 
she  finally  answered: 


yo  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  I  am  attending  a  cotton-picking  picnic." 

"  It  is  idiotic,  that 's  what  it  is,  on  a  day 
like  this ! "  emphatically.  "  Everybody  else  has 
quit  and  gone  to  the  shade.  Why  don't  you  ? " 

It  appeared  as  if  Victoria  would  ignore  the 
question.  She  rifled  several  cotton-bolls  before 
she  spoke.  "  I  am  going  to  win  the  girls' 
prize.  Mabel  Gorman  defied  me,  and  she  is 
still  picking.  That  was  she  you  saw  over  the 
ridge  there." 

"  Mabel  Gorman  be  hanged  !  Look  here, 
Miss  Victoria,"  with  rising  impatience,  "  it 's 
too  hot  for  anything  like  this,  and  you  ought  n't 
to  do  it." 

Victoria  moved  to  the  next  stalk,  but  she 
did  not  glance  toward  Andrew,  and  she  did 
not  answer. 

"  You  ought  to  quit,  Miss  Victoria ;  you 
ought  to  quit  right  now,  and  you  know  it." 

There  was  an  imperiousness  in  his  way  of 
speaking  that  caused  the  girl  to  turn  upon 
him  a  second  time.  For  a  moment  there  was 
that  in  her  countenance  which  seemed  to 
foretell  some  cutting  reply,  but  the  weak  smile 
came  again,  and  again  she  bent  over  the  cotton 
row.  "  It  is  a  little  warm,"  she  said,  "  but  it 
is  no  warmer  for  me  than  for  Mabel." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  71 

Andrew  had  seen  the  smile,  and  he  was 
now  close  enough  to  see  clearly  the  battle 
against  exhaustion  in  the  pale  face.  He  saw, 
too,  the  unsteadiness  of  her  hand  as  it  again 
sought  the  bursting  bolls,  and  he  caught  it 
almost  roughly  in  his  own. 
"  You  must  not  do  this  any  longer,"  he  ordered. 

She  gave  a  low  cry  of  surprise  and  resent- 
ment, springing  erect,  and,  as  she  snatched 
her  hand  away,  facing  him  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  You  !  "  with  an  intense  expression  of  anger 
and  authority  in  the  one  word.  "  What  do 
you  mean  ? " 

"  That  you  can't  stand  this,"  Andrew  an- 
swered, with  no  wavering  in  his  voice  or 
manner ;  "  that  you  must  quit  it  at  once.  You 
are  sick  already.  Your  hand  is  as  cold  as  a 
corpse's  and  you  have  the  same  look  I  saw  one 
time  on  a  man  two  minutes  before  he  was 
prostrated  by  heat." 

Andrew  did  not  draw  much  upon  his  imagi- 
nation. Victoria,  as  she  stood  defiantly  before 
him,  certainly  looked  ill.  There  was  strength 
of  will  left,  but  it  was  plain  that  there  was 
little  strength  of  body  remaining.  The  heat 
was  humid  and  stifling.  It  seemed  to  steam 
from  the  bare  soil,  to  wilt  the  stilled  forest, 


72  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

to  well  from  the  surcharged  thunderheads,  to 
smother  out  from  under  the  low  dome  of  the 
oily  heavens  every  breath  of  oxygen.  Andrew 
waited  for  Victoria  to  speak  again,  but  before 
she  did  Arthur  Feme,  smiling  and  tanning 
himself  with  a  palm-leaf,  came  over  the  ridge. 

"  It 's  the  biggest  fan  in  the  crowd,  Miss 
Victoria,  and  I  've  captured  it  and  brought  it 
out  to  you.  How  are  you,  Andrew  ?  But 
Miss  Rosalie  said  I  must  bring  you  back 
immediately,  Miss  Victoria." 

He  was  speaking  as  he  approached,  and  as 
he  came  up  and  stopped  by  Victoria's  side  he 
added,  a  little  solicitously  :  "  And  you  do  look 
tired,  too."  He  bent  towards  her  and,  with 
that  deferential  manner  which  he  showed  to 
all  women,  began  fanning  her  gently  as  he 
talked. 

Outcault's  face  hardened  with  an  instantly 
formed  purpose.  He  had  been  watching  Vic- 
toria closely,  and  he  not  only  noted  the  new 
tremor  in  her  voice,  but  he  saw  the  increasing 
evidence  of  distress  in  the  flagging  figure.  He 
went  directly  up  to  her. 

"  Miss  Torrance  is  more  affected  by  the  heat 
than  she  is  aware  of,"  he  said  firmly.  "  You 
must  take  her  to  the  shade  at  once,  Mr.  Feme." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  73 

Feme,  with  a  puzzled  look,  glanced  from 
one  to  the  other.  "  Certainly,"  he  agreed,  his 
eyes  upon  the  girl,  "if  Miss  Torrance  will 
come  with  me." 

She  made  a  final  rally  and  laughed  faintly  in 
Outcault's  face.  "This  is  ridiculous,  Andrew 
Outcault,"  she  said,  almost  as  faintly.  "Go 
away,  both  of  you,"  she  added  with  an  effort 
at  levity  ;  "  you  interfere  with  my  work." 

"  If  Mr.  Feme  won't  take  you,  then  I  will." 
Outcault  spoke  as  if  he  were  merely  announc- 
ing the  day  of  the  month. 

Victoria's  eyes  opened  a  little  wider;  she 
looked  at  him  with  calm  incredulity  for  a 
moment;  and  then  she  said,  in  a  tone  in 
which  there  was  no  levity  now : 

"  You  —  you  are  impertinent." 

Feme  took  an  impetuous  step  toward  Out- 
cault. "Look  here,  Andrew,  what's  the  matter 
with  you?"  he  demanded,  beginning  to  resent 
the  situation  and  Outcault's  assumption  of 
control  over  it. 

Outcault  gave  no  heed  to  the  demand.  His 
attention  was  all  for  Victoria.  Hardly  had 
she  spoken  last  when  her  eyelids  quivered 
and  drooped,  and  the  slender  form  perceptibly 
faltered.  Before  Feme  fairly  realized  what 


74  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

was  taking  place,  Outcault  had  Victoria  in  his 
arras  and  was  holding  her  as  if  she  were  a 
sleeping  baby. 

Feme  became  almost  as  pale  as  Victoria. 
He  sprang  forward  with  a  low  exclamation  of 
anxiety.  "  What  is  it  ?  Give  her  to  me !  Give 
her  to  me !  " 

Outcault  did  not  even  look  at  him. 

Outcault  had  started  with  Victoria  toward 
the  woods,  but  suddenly  turned  and  measured 
the  distance  across  the  field  to  the  Kemp 
farmhouse,  whose  roof  and  well-sweep  were 
visible  in  a  clump  of  trees  not  more  than  a 
furlong  away.  It  was  not  much  farther  than 
the  woods  where  the  picnickers  were,  and 
Outcault  walked  swiftly  toward  it. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  Where  are  you 
going  ? "  Feme  panted,  hurrying  to  Outcault's 
side.  "  She  came  with  me  here  to-day ;  she  is 
under  my  protection.  Give  her  to  me,  I  tell 
you ! " 

"  Then  why  did  n't  you  protect  her  ? "  Out- 
cault answered  curtly.  "  Get  out  of  the  way. 
If  you  want  to  do  something  for  her,  go  ahead 
there  and  let  down  that  fence." 

Feme  flushed  hotly  ;  but  he  was  helpless 
now.  He  kept  step  with  Outcault  a  few  paces 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  75 

more,  then  he  hastened  on  in  advance  to  clear 
the  way  by  letting  down  a  panel  of  the  rail 
fence  that  inclosed  the  field. 

Outcault,  walking  through  and  over  the 
cotton  stalks,  crushed  them  down  as  if  they 
had  been  so  much  dead  grass.  He  felt  that 
he  would  have  walked  over  them  thus  if  they 
had  been  phalanxes  of  armed  opponents,  such 
was  the  pulse  that  was  now  in  his  heart,  the 
power  that  was  in  his  sinews.  Thus  he 
pushed  forward,  until,  his  eyes  resting  for 
a  little  on  the  relaxed  lines  of  the  tender 
mouth,  on  the  delicate  tracery  of  the  fallen 
lashes  against  the  colorless  cheeks,  he  held  the 
still  form  higher,  that  even  the  tallest  cotton 
might  not  brush  it,  and  picking  his  footing 
watchfully,  he  went  on  with  greater  care,  but 
no  less  rapidly.  He  quickly  passed  out  of  the 
field,  down  the  road,  and  through  the  Kemp 
gate,  finding  Mrs.  Kemp  sitting  in  the  wide 
hall.  That  sensible  woman,  after  her  first 
flutter  of  alarm,  directed  Outcault  to  lay  Vic- 
toria on  the  wicker  lounge  in  the  big  room 
adjoining  the  hall,  after  which  she  ordered 
Outcault  and  Feme  out  and  closed  the  door 
on  them.  Outcault  seated  himself  against 
one  of  the  portico  pillars  and  waited,  while 


j6  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Feme  paced  impatiently  to  and  fro  on  the 
lawn,  neither  speaking  and  neither  looking  at 
the  other. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mrs.  Kemp  came 
out,  smiling.  "  I  told  you  there  would  be  no 
use  going  for  the  doctor,"  she  said,  addressing 
Outcault.  "  It  was  only  a  little  fainting  spell, 
from  the  heat  and  over-exertion.  She  is  her- 
self again  now,  and  will  soon  be  all  right." 

After  proffers  of  all  sorts  of  assistance  had 
been  declined  by  Mrs.  Kemp,  the  two  young 
men  left.  They  walked  together  in  silence 
up  the  road  until  they  reached  the  panel  of  the 
fence  which  Feme  had  let  down.  Outcault 
began  replacing  this,  and  Feme  helped  him. 
When  the  last  rail  was  laid  Feme  confronted 
Outcault  and  said  in  a  voice  restrained  in 
modulation,  but  keyed  with  excitement : 

"  Andrew  Outcault,  your  conduct  to  Miss 
Torrance  this  afternoon  was  presumptuous  and 
rude.  It  was  enough  in  itself  to  make  her  ill, 
and  you  must  answer  to  me  for  it." 

Outcault's  response  was  instantaneous  and 
measured.  "  I  '11  answer  to  you  for  anything 
you  like,  but  not  here.  And  you,"  in  some- 
thing of  the  tone  in  which  he  had  ordered 
Feme  to  let  down  the  fence,  "go  and  tell 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  77 

Miss  Rosalie  that  Miss  Victoria  is  at  the 
house.  Better  just  say  that  she  got  tired  and 
you  came  over  with  her,  without  mentioning 
me  or  the  fainting,  I  reckon.  No  use  setting 
that  crowd  to  gabbling.  But  you  know  how 
to  manage  all  that."  He  turned  into  the  road, 
and  then,  pausing,  faced  Feme  again.  "  As 
to  answering  to  you,  whatever  you  may  choose 
to  mean  by  that,  I  shall  be  at  home  any  time 
after  seven  o'clock  to-day,  or  I  shall  be  at 
Swango's  Gap  at  ten  o'clock  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, or  I  shall  be  anywhere  else  at  any  time 
you  please." 

"  Swango's  Gap  at  ten  to-morrow  will  suit 
me,"  said  Feme  decisively. 

"  It  will  suit  me." 

And  Outcault  continued  up  the  road,  while 
Feme  went  back  across  the  cotton-field. 


78  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


VI 


SWANGO'S  Gap  was  a  nick  in  the  limestone 
ledge  which  walled  one  side  of  the  river. 
Through  it  Torrance  Creek,  skirting  the  south- 
western border  of  the  Dead  Sea,  made  its 
junction  with  the  river;  and  here  the  little 
triangle  of  rock,  vine,  and  stunted  tree,  edged 
on  two  sides  by  creek  and  river  and  on  the 
greater  part  of  the  third  by  the  dark  pool  of 
the  Dead  Sea,  was  as  wild  and  secluded  a  spot 
as  was  anywhere  unredeemed  from  the  heart 
of  the  wilderness.  One  could  reach  it  with 
difficulty  by  picking  his  footing  along  the 
ledge  that  banked  the  river,  while  it  was  more 
accessible  by  way  of  the  rocky  neck  between 
the  Dead  Sea  and  the  creek ;  but  few  were 
the  human  feet  that  ever  disturbed  its  solitude. 
The  ignorant  and  superstitious  held  the  place 
in  uncanny  awe,  and  by  the  more  intelligent, 
even  by  those  as  thrifty  as  its  owner,  Little 
Oriy  Swango,  it  was  considered  worthless  for 
any  practical  purpose. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  79 

To  this  rendezvous  Arthur  Feme,  turned 
his  horse  next  morning  a  little  after  nine 
o'clock.  Feme  had  not  had  a  good  night. 
He  showed  it  in  a  trifling  fulness  beneath 
the  eyes  and  in  the  edge  of  irritability  fraying 
his  voice  as  he  gave  his  horse  the  word  of 
command.  He  was  far  from  satisfied  with  the 
part  he  was  to  play  to-day,  and  he  was  so  far 
from  satisfied  with  the  part  he  had  played  the 
preceding  afternoon  that  the  memory  of  it 
was  as  the  twisting  of  a  thorn  in  his  nerves. 
Feme's  nervous  endowment  was  both  large 
and  fine,  marking  him  for  acute  pleasure  or 
acute  pain,  and  destining  him  to  get  most 
and  to  miss  most  from  the  life  about  him. 
With  the  ardor  and  ideality  of  such  a  na- 
ture he  believed  himself  in  love  with  Victo- 
ria Torrance.  It  may  be  doubted  if  he  was 
in  love  with  the  real  Victoria  Torrance,  for 
it  may  be  doubted  whether,  though  know- 
ing her  nearly  all  his  life,  he  knew  the  real 
Victoria  Torrance.  Feme  knew  Victoria  as 
he  knew  his  dreams  of  woman  and  love. 
He  knew  her  as  the  embodiment  of  those 
dreams,  vital  with  the  warmth  and  grace  of 
physical  beauty,  vivid  with  the  play,  temper- 
amental or  superficial,  of  the  varying  mani- 


8o  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

festations  of  a  rare  spirit,  and  softened  and 
ennobled  by  that  depth  and  strength  and  sweet- 
ness of  the  heart  which  for  him  were  compre- 
hended in  "  womanhood."  To  her  Feme's  at- 
titude was  necessarily  one  of  bared  head  and 
bended  knee.  He  gave  to  her  all  that  there 
was  in  him  to  give  —  a  loyalty  that  was  unre- 
served, a  devotion  that  was  engrossing,  a  pas- 
sion that  was  inexorable,  and  a  reverence  that 
was  at  once  humbling  and  uplifting.  As  yet, 
restrained  by  the  realization  of  his  youth  and 
by  the  conviction  of  his  unworthiness,  he  had 
spoken  no  word  of  love  to  her;  but  he  lived, 
if  he  did  not  speak,  his  love  for  her ;  and  all 
the  world  of  Feme  Run  understood  and  ap- 
proved. It  was  agreed  by  that  world  that 
Victoria  Torrance  and  Arthur  Feme  were 
literally  "  born "  for  each  other.  ^ 

When  on  the  preceding  afternoon  Feme  had 
seen  Victoria  in  the  arms  of  Andrew  Outcault 
it  had  seemed  almost  like  a  sacrilege ;  but 
more  potent  for  Feme's  distress  than  any 
sacrilege  was  the  instinctive  resentment  that 
raged  within  him  at  sight  of  Victoria  in  any 
other  man's  arms,  —  a  rage  that  was  inten- 
sified, in  the  situation  in  which  he  had  found 
himself,  by  the  knowledge  that  he  had  no  real 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  81 

right  to  interfere  and  that  he  was  helpless  to 
do  more  than  he  had  done  in  not  only  sub- 
mitting to,  but  in  aiding,  the  action  of  Out- 
cault.  Moreover,  his  merciless  mental  ferment 
had  been  further  aggravated  by  the  fact  that 
subsequent  reflection  failed  to  justify  his  pro- 
posal to  hold  Outcault  to  personal  account- 
ability for  the  course  he  had  taken  in  the 
matter.  Feme  now  understood  that  he  had 
no  warrant  for  such  a  purpose,  aside  from 
perhaps  a  strained  interpretation  of  a  pro- 
vincial conventionalism  ;  and  that  even  if  he 
had,  he  would  play  but  a  sorry  part  in  pick- 
ing a  quarrel  that  could  only  set  tongues  to 
wagging  in  gossip  which  would  in  all  prob- 
ability involve  the  girl  whose  protection  from 
such  desecration  must  be  paramount  with 
him. 

The  sultriness  of  the  preceding  day  had 
passed  away  with  the  night,  and  the  air  as 
Feme  breathed  it  was  like  cool  drink  to  a 
fevered  thirst.  Feme  rode  away  from  the 
quiet  village,  the  chimes  of  the  church  bells 
following  him,  out  the  smooth  turnpike,  be- 
tween fields  in  which  cattle  browsed  and  horses 
and  mules  were  taking  their  Sunday  holiday  ; 
over  the-  dirt  road  that  divided  stretches  of 
6 


82  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

stubble  and  slopes  of  bending  apple  orchards ; 
and  down  the  faint  cow-path  that  wound  be- 
tween the  Dead  Sea  on  the  right  and  the 
densely  shaded  gorge  on  the  left  along  which 
Torrance  Creek  slipped  and  sang.  As  he 
entered  the  triangular  approach  to  Swango's 
Gap  he  pulled  up  his  horse  at  sight  of  Out- 
cault  prone  upon  his  back,  his  bed  a  huge 
bowlder  that  absorbed  gratefully  the  morning 
rays  of  the  mellow  sun,  threading  down  through 
a  canopy  of  vines  which  shot  the  golden  air 
with  the  tang  of  the  wild  grape. 

"  Good-morning,"  Feme  called  out  as  he 
dismounted. 

Usually  he  would  have  said,  "  Good-morning, 
Andrew,"  and  the  note  of  constraint  would 
have  been  lacking;  but  the  tone  was  not  un- 
civil, and  that  it  was  different  from  what  An- 
drew Outcault  had  expected,  was  shown  by 
a  passing  glint  of  surprise  in  his  eyes  as  he 
raised  himself  to  a  sitting  posture. 

"  Hello ! "  he  answered.  It  was  at  once  a 
response  to  Feme's  greeting  and  a  non-com- 
mittal expression  of  his  intention  to  await 
Feme's  further  initiative. 

Feme  silently  tied  his  horse  to  an  over- 
hanging bough  and  seated  himself  on  the  rock 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  83 

near  Outcault.  He  flicked,  a  little  nervously, 
a  bit  of  dust  from  his  leg,  saying,  without 
looking  up: 

"  Well,  I  see  you  are  on  time." 

"  Of  course,"  Outcault  replied,  still  waiting. 

Feme  looked  at  Outcault  squarely.  "  I  sup- 
pose I  was  rather  hasty  yesterday,"  he  said. 
"  Since  thinking  it  over  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  was  hardly  justified  in  speak- 
ing to  you  as  I  did." 

It  was  characteristic  of  Outcault  that  he 
rarely  showed  any  evidence  of  surprise.  He 
showed  none  now,  but  answered  in  his  usual 
straightforward  way : 

"All  right,  Feme  ;  I  didn't  think  you  were 
myself." 

"  You  may  have  appeared  a  little  too  —  dic- 
tatorial and  —  brusque  in  your  manner  to  Miss 
Torrance,  and  I  may  have  been  remiss  in  my 
duty  to  look  after  her  comfort ;  but  —  well, 
the  result  proved  that  there  was  reason  for 
your  insistence ;  and  if  there  had  not  been  I  — 
well,  I  am  not  sure  how  far  I  should  have  had 
a  right  to  object  to  your  action." 

Outcault  looked  as  if  he  doubted  whether  he 
fully  comprehended.  "  I  'm  not  sure,  either, 
Feme,"  he  finally  said.  "  In  fact,  I  don't  know 


84  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

whether  any  question  of  '  right '  has  anything 
to  do  with  the  case." 

"  You  must  not  misunderstand  me,"  Feme 
quickly  rejoined.  "  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that, 
whatever  the  circumstances  may  have  been,  I 
should  have  had  a  right  to  feel  any  resentment 
yesterday  which  any  escort  of  the  young  lady 
would  not  have  had  a  right  to  feel.  I  most 
certainly  had  no  right  to  —  assume  any  attitude 
toward  Miss  Torrance  which  would  not  have 
been  the  right  of  any  other  gentleman  under 
whose  protection  she  temporarily  was." 

Feme  was  now  speaking  unevenly,  his  agita- 
tion betraying  itself  in  his  rising  color  as  well 
as  in  his  hesitating  pauses.  Outcault  got  up, 
brushing  his  clothes  in  a  manner  that  indicated 
his  disposition  to  drop  the  subject.  He  picked 
up  a  stone  and  threw  it  into  the  water,  saying 
as  he  did  so : 

"  Well,  I  reckon  there 's  not  much  of  a  mis- 
understanding between  us." 

Feme  also  rose.  "  One  thing  more,"  he 
added :  "  I  regret  to  have  put  you  to  the 
trouble  of  keeping  this  unnecessary  appoint- 
ment. It  seems  now  rather  silly  of  me." 

"  Oh  !  it  does  n't.  matter  about  the  trouble. 
Fact  is,  I  don't  know  but  that  you  have  done 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  85 

me  a  good  turn.  I  got  here  an  hour  ahead  of 
you  this  morning  and  I  put  in  the  time  explor- 
ing that  pond  out  there.  I  believe  I  've  hit 
upon  a  big  scheme,  if  I  can  get  the  Dead  Sea 
from  Mr.  Swango." 

"  The  Dead  Sea ! "  and  Arthur  smiled  for  the 
first  time  during  the  meeting.  "  I  reckon  Little 
Ony  would  be  glad  to  give  it  to  you  if  you 
would  agree  to  take  it  off  his  place." 

"  That 's  just  what  I  want  to  do  with  it." 

Feme  laughed  rather  vacantly  as  he  mounted 
his  horse.  "  Are  you  riding  ? "  he  asked. 

"  No ;  I  walked  over." 

"  Well,  good-morning,  Outcault." 

"  Good-morning,  Feme." 

The  incidents  of  the  twenty-four  hours, 
notwithstanding  Feme's  virtual  apology,  had 
not  left  the  relations  of  the  two  young  men 
unchanged.  Before,  they  had  addressed  each 
other  as  "  Andrew  "  and  "  Mr.  Feme  ;  "  now, 
it  was  "  Outcault  "  and  "  Ferae." 

Outcault  spent  another  hour  poking  and 
peering  about  the  shores  of  the  Dead  Sea. 
Then,  going  a  mile  out  of  his  way,  he  turned 
into  the  road  that  took  him  in  front  of  the 
Kemp  homestead.  Discovering  far  down  that 
road  a  vehicle  which  he  recognized,  he  timed 


86  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

his  steps  to  meet  it  at  the  Kemp  gate,  which 
he  opened  for  Mrs.  Kemp  and  the  Squire, 
driving  back  from  church. 

"  Has  Miss  Victoria  entirely  recovered,  Mrs. 
Kemp  ? "  Outcault  inquired  as  the  buggy  passed 
through. 

"  Miss  who  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Kemp,  in  a  voice 
whose  unwonted  formality  kindled  a  merry 
spark  in  the  Squire's  eyes. 

"  Miss  Victoria,"  repeated  Outcault,  his  lids 
lifting  a  little. 

"Miss  Torrance  had  sufficiently  recovered 
to  return  to  The  Mounds  last  evening,"  an- 
swered the  formal  voice. 

"  G'lang  there,  Solomon,"  clucked  the  Squire, 
shaking  the  reins  over  the  fat  back  of  the  horse. 

"  Much  obleeged  to  you,  Andy." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  87 


VII 

NEXT  afternoon  Rosalie  Kemp  went  over  to 
The  Mounds  in  her  phaeton  and  took  Victoria 
Torrance  for  a  drive.  Rosalie  was  usually  very 
happy  or  very  unhappy,  and  when  at  either 
extreme  it  was  her  wish  to  be  with  Victoria 
Torrance.  This  afternoon  she  was  very 
unhappy. 

Beyond  a  slight  lingering  pallor  Victoria 
showed  no  trace  of  her  illness  of  the  preced- 
ing Saturday,  as  the  two  girls  were  drawn  by 
old  Solomon  from  The  Mounds  along  the 
dirt  road  toward  the  river. 

Rosalie  Kemp,  having  exclaimed  her  dis- 
tress over  the  misfortunes  of  Saturday  and  her 
delight  over  Victoria's  recovery,  had  lapsed 
into  one  of  the  pensive  silences  which  generally 
preceded  the  commission  of  her  unhappiness 
to  words. 

"  What  a  delicious  day ! "  she  soon  sighed. 
"And  what  a  shame  that  we  could  not  have 
had  it  for  the  picnic !  " 


88  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"Yes,"  assented  Victoria,  reflectively;  "but 
this  —  just  you  and  I  and  Solomon  —  is  nicer 
than  any  picnic." 

"  You  dear  !  But  oh,  Victoria,  I  'm  heart- 
broken about  the  picnic !  To  think,  after  all 
our  preparations,  and  everybody  so  taken  with 
the  idea,  that  it  should  have  turned  out  so 
miserably ! " 

"  But  it  did  n  't  turn  out  so  miserably,"  Vic- 
toria reassured  her.  "  I  'm  certain  I  had  a  good 
time,  at  first,  and  the  others — most  of  them, 
at  least  —  were  more  sensible  than  I  was." 

"  How  could  we  enjoy  it  after  Arthur  Feme 
came  back  and  told  us  that  you  were  feeling  so 
bad  you  had  gone  to  the  house,  and  I  was  dying 
to  get  them  all  away  so  I  could  go  to  you  ? 
And,  oh,  Victoria!  what  do  you  reckon?  I 
sat  by  Bessie  McLane  at  church  last  night  and 
she  told  me  such  awful  things.  She  said  that 
Maud  Gibbs  was  circulating  it  around  that  her 
father  said  that  the  picnic  was  just  a  scheme  to 
get  popper's  cotton  picked  for  nothing.  And, 
oh,  Victoria !  that  was  n't  the  worst.  What 
else  do  you  suppose  she  said  ? " 

"Indeed,  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea, 
Rosalie ;  but  I  should  n 't  mind  what  Maud 
Gibbs  said." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  89 

"  Victoria !  "  in  almost  a  whisper,  "  she  said 
that  we  broke  up  the  picnic  because  Andrew 
Outcault,  who  of  course  was  n't  wanted,  came, 
anyway." 

"  Oh,  Rosalie  !     How  absurd  !  " 

Victoria  did  seem  to  mind  what  Maud 
Gibbs  said.  There  was  an  indignant  flush  on 
her  cheeks  now  and  a  flash  in  her  eyes. 

"Of  course  !  "  Rosalie  went  on.  "  Why, 
we  did  n't  even  know  that  Andrew  Outcault 
had  been  in  the  neighborhood.  Arthur  Feme 
came  back  and  told  us  that  he  himself  had 
gone  with  you  to  the  house;  and  you  know 
that  he  would  not  have  told  any  one  about 
Andrew  afterwards.  Arthur  is  a  true  gentle- 
man." 

"  Yes ;  Arthur  never  told  any  one  about 
Andrew  Outcault,"  Victoria  agreed,  looking 
straight  ahead. 

"  Then  it  must  have  been  Andrew  himself," 
Rosalie  decreed.  "  How  contemptible  ! " 

"Do  you  think  that  he  would  do  such  a 
thing?  " 

"  What  could  you  expect  of  an  Outcault  ?  " 
answered  Rosalie,  scornfully,  disturbing  Solo- 
mon's meditations  with  a  sudden  lash  of  the 
reins.  "  Why,  Victoria,  mommer  says  he  actu- 


90  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

ally  had  the  impudence  to  come  by  and  inquire 
about  you  yesterday." 

"  Indeed !  "  There  was  that  in  the  sharply 
cut  enunciation  which  reminded  Rosalie  of 
Clara  Torrance  in  her  haughtiest  moments  of 
aristocratic  young-ladyhood. 

"  Of  all  the  presumption  !  "  Rosalie  echoed. 

Solomon  jogged  on  for  several  seconds 
unpursued  by  the  sound  of  human  voices. 
Then  Rosalie  gathered  up  the  reins  again  and 
suddenly  asked : 

"  Victoria,  tell  me,  how  was  it  possible  — 
how  was  it  that  Andrew  Outcault  dared  do 
what  he  did,  and  Arthur  Feme  with  you,  too  ? " 

Victoria's  hands,  lying  in  her  lap,  closed 
convulsively,  one  over  the  other;  then  they 
swooped  on  the  reins  held  loosely  by  Rosalie, 
drew  them  up  and  shook  them  fiercely  over 
the  startled  Solomon,  who  actually  broke  into 
a  gallop.  "  Let  me  drive  for  a  while ! "  she 
said  impetuously,  pulling  Solomon  down  to 
a  trot.  "And  don't  ask  me  anything  about 
Andrew  Outcault!  I  suppose  he  did  as  he 
did  because  he  is  what  he  is!  And  don't, 
don't,  don't  ever  mention  the  odious  affair  to 
me  again !  " 

Rosalie  looked  at  her  friend  with   a  little 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  91 

gasp.  Victoria  was  sitting  erect,  loosened 
strands  of  her  hair  flaying  her  temples,  her 
lips  firmly  set,  her  eyes  burning  through  un- 
shed tears. 

"  Oh,  Victoria,  I  never  will !  "  Rosalie  sighed, 
nestling  closer  ;  and  a  little  later :  "  But  isn  't 
Arthur  Feme  the  handsomest  creature  you 
ever  saw  ?  " 

Victoria's  face  relaxed  and  she  turned  to 
Rosalie  with  a  smile.  "  Except  one,"  she 
answered. 

"  Who  ? "  incredulously. 

"Father." 

-Yes  —  but  —  " 

The  sentence  was  for  some  seconds  un- 
finished, and  Victoria's  inquiry  was  in  her 
eyes. 

"  But  I  was  not  thinking  of  old  gentlemen," 
Rosalie  concluded. 

They  were  now  in  sight  of  the  woods  through 
which  was  the  ideal  drive  of  the  county,  —  a 
springy  dirt  road,  known  as  the  Arcade,  wind- 
ing within  occasional  glimpses  of  the  river  on 
one  side  and  wild  uplands  on  the  other,  and 
so  overarched  with  trees  that  the  sun  rarely 
pierced  through.  Here  in  the  spring  miles  of 
dogwood  blossoms  made  a  white  canopy  as  if  of 


92  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

the  entrance  to  some  fairy  bridal  festival,  but 
now  squirrels  swung  across  the  archway  as  they 
sought  the  hickory-trees  for  their  winter  stores, 
acorns  strewed  the  road,  and  brown  leaves 
drifted  down  to  cover  them  from  the  coming 
frosts  and  the  slow  feet  of  idlers  and  lovers. 

Suddenly  Rosalie  started  and  laid  a  hand 
on  Victoria's  wrist.  "  Victoria !  "  she  cried, 
"  look !  Is  n't  that  Andrew  Outcault  ?  " 

A  horseman  was  coming  towards  them,  three 
or  four  hundred  yards  down  the  road. 

"  I  think  it  is,"  replied  Victoria,  eying  him 
steadily. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Victoria  ? "  under 
her  breath.  "  Are  you  going  to  speak  to 
him  ? " 

Victoria,  her  gaze  still  on  the  approaching 
horseman,  answered  after  an  interval  of 
silence : 

"We  might  avoid  him  by  turning  into 
Wingate's  Lane." 

Wingate's  Lane  was  a  brier-grown  byway 
that  led  through  weeds  and  thickets  to  the 
abandoned  Wingate  barrens  and  the  hut  of  old 
Dru  Wingate,  the  con  jure- worker,  the  sole 
human  being  who  lived  on  the  shores  of  the 
Dead  Sea. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  93 

"  But  we  should  miss  the  Arcade,"  Rosalie 
objected,  "  and,"  with  lowered  voice,  "  we 
should  have  to  go  by  old  Dru's." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  old  Dru's,"  Victoria 
replied  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh,  I  should  n't !  "  closing  her  eyes  so 
tightly  as  to  pucker  her  face  whimsically.  "  It 
makes  me  creepy  to  think  of  it !  " 

"  We  could  turn  back  before  we  got  to 
Dru's,"  laughed  Victoria. 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Rosalie  ;  "  but,  Victoria 
Torrance,  why  do  you  want  to  avoid  Andrew 
Outcault  ?  I  should  think  you  would  be  glad 
of  the  chance  to  cut  him.  /  shall  never  speak 
to  him  again." 

They  had  now  reached  the  mouth  of  the 
lane.  Victoria  seemed  to  have  decided  to 
drive  by  it,  straight  on ;  but  in  an  instant  she 
so  wrenched  the  reins  as  to  almost  bring 
Solomon  to  his  haunches,  and  half  a  minute 
later,  when  Andrew  Outcault  cantered  up  to 
the  junction  of  the  two  roads,  the  back  of 
a  phaeton  rapidly  wheeling  towards  Dru 
Wingate's  was  all  that  he  saw  as  he  looked 
up  the  lane. 

He  had  recognized  the  girls  long  before 
they  turned  aside,  and  he  pulled  up  his  horse 


94  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

at  the  mouth  of  the  lane  and  watched   the 
receding  vehicle. 

In  Outcault's  place  Arthur  Feme,  looking 
across  that  forbidden  ground,  might  have 
sighed  a  prayer  or  a  poem.  But  Outcault,  with 
a  laugh  abruptly  ended  almost  with  its  first 
note,  slapped  the  flank  of  his  horse  with  the 
palm  of  his  hand,  as  a  boy  who  rides  without 
a  saddle  sometimes  does,  and  galloped  on  his 
way,  humming,  in  a  raw  baritone,  a  line  from 
a  Scotch  air : 

« Ye  '11  take  the  high  road  and  1 11  take  the  low  road." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  95 


VIII 

HE  had  made  a  second  visit  to  the  Dead  Sea 
that  morning,  and  having  further  explored  the 
place,  had  jumped  on  his  horse  and  started 
in  search  of  Little  Ony  Swango,  in  whose 
domain  the  great  pond  lay. 

The  Dead  Sea  covered  about  four  hundred 
acres,  and  was  fed  by  the  spring  freshets  of  the 
river,  which,  overflowing  its  bank  at  the  mouth 
of  a  little  valley  half  a  mile  above  Swango's 
Gap,  filled  the  natural  basin  between  the  river 
and  the  upland  barrens  with  a  volume  of  muddy 
water  to  which,  except  over  the  rim  of  the 
valley,  itself  higher  than  the  basin,  there  was 
no  outlet.  The  result  was  a  stagnant  pool,  to 
partially  evaporate  under  the  summer  sun, 
leaving  its  margins  marshy  quagmires,  grown 
up  with  rank  underbrush  and  fringed  with 
greenish  fungus.  Here  solitude  settled  over 
decay.  There  was  no  sign  of  life  except  that 
which  feeds  on  corruption.  Perhaps  a  sleek 
muskrat  dropped  into  the  water,  a  torpid  turtle 
crawled  out  on  a  rotting  log,  or  a  funereal  heron 


96  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

stood  sentinel.  In  summer  grotesque  dragon- 
flies  shimmered,  and  spectral  butterflies  quiv- 
ered above  the  fetid  mould.  At  times  a  cloud 
of  turgid  mist  ascended,  and  brackish  odors 
rose  with  it.  Overhead,  in  periods  of  drought, 
the  sky  was  like  a  yellow  desert,  while  the 
reek  of  the  flat  fumes  was  insidiously  nauseous. 
It  was  not  strange  that  by  a  people  so  impres- 
sionable as  the  negroes  this  spot  was  shunned 
in  superstitious  dread ;  that  they  believed  it  ac- 
cursed from  above  and  ruled  from  below ;  that 
to  them  the  swamp  fires  which  were  sometimes 
seen  near  it  were  the  personal  materializations 
of  the  Evil  One ;  and  that  old  Dru  Wingate,  who 
lived  on  its  edge  and  caught  her  tadpoles  and 
devil's-horses  in  its  fens,  was  his  vicegerent. 

Andrew  Outcault,  riding  from  this  desolate 
spot  to  the  home  of  Little  Ony  Swango,  and 
failing  to  find  him  there,  traced  him  to  Cap'n 
Pow  Halliburton's  law  office  in  Feme  Run, 
where,  sitting  on  one  chair,  a  leg  over  the  seat 
of  another  chair,  and  the  back  of  a  third  caught 
under  his  arm,  he  was  slowly  rolling  his 
hickory  walking-stick  to  and  fro  between  the 
palm  of  his  hand  and  his  extended  leg,  and 
silently  listening  to  Cap'n  Pow's  voluble  war 
reminiscences. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  97 

"Why,  hello,  Andrew!"  Cap'n  Pow  broke 
off  as  Outcault  entered,  "  I  did  n't  know  you 
were  in  town." 

"  I  wanted  to  see  Mr.  Swango,  and  I  followed 
him  here,"  Outcault  explained. 

"Howdy,  Andy?  What's  in  the  wind?" 
Ony  lifted  his  head,  and  his  greeting  was 
plainly  one  of  curiosity  as  well  as  friendliness. 

Young  Outcault,  with  characteristic  direct- 
ness, at  once  disclosed  his  mission.  "  Mr. 
Swango,"  he  said,  "  will  you  sell  the  Dead 
Sea  ?  " 

"  What  the  Dead  Sea  ? "  exploded  Cap'n 
Pow,  his  high,  boyish  voice  breaking  in  a 
roulade  of  infectious  laughter. 

Ony's  shoulders  were  shaking  and  his  face 
was  contorted  with  a  smile.  Ony  rarely 
laughed,  but  he  sometimes  smiled ;  and  when 
he  smiled  there  was  often  a  ponderous  convul- 
sion throughout  his  whole  corporeal  being. 

"  Did  you  say  sell  the  Dead  Sea,  Andy  ? " 
he  asked,  straightening  his  face. 

"  Yes,  sir."  Outcault's  jaw  closed  firmly 
after  the  words,  and  he  refused  to  see  any 
cause  for  amusement  in  his  inquiry. 

"  Oom,  well,  I  reckon  I  won't,"  Ony  replied, 
dropping  his  eyes  to  the  floor  again. 
7 


98  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  Would  you  tell  me  why,  sir  ? " 

"  Becaze,  Andy,  there  ain't  nobody  that  would 
be  a  gormed  goose  enough  to  buy  it." 

"  I  '11  buy  it,  sir." 

There  was  another  of  Cap'n  Pow's  roulades 
of  laughter,  but  Ony's  smile  now  extended 
only  to  his  eyes  and  lips  as  he  again  glanced 
up  at  Outcault.  "  Look-ahere,  Andy,"  he  said, 
"what  new  dido  are  you  a-projickin  now?  " 

"  I  '11  give  you  three  hundred  dollars  for  it. 
I  'd  give  you  more  if  I  had  it.  But  you  say 
that's  three  hundred  dollars  more  than  any- 
body else  would  give  for  it." 

Cap'n  Pow  forgot  to  laugh,  in  his  astonish- 
ment, and  Ony  Swango  rose  heavily  from  his 
seat  before  replying.  "  Three  hundred  dollars 
for  the  Dead  Sea ! "  he  exclaimed,  throwing 
his  coat  over  his  shoulder.  "  Why,  boy,  I  'd 
as  soon  sell  you  a  quarter  section  of  the 
moon." 

"  I  '11  make  you  another  proposition,  Mr. 
Swango,"  Outcault  said,  moving  a  step  nearer. 
"I'll  give  you  three  hundred  dollars  for  the 
Dead  Sea  outright,  or  I  '11  undertake  to  drain 
it  for  a  share  of  the  reclaimed  ground.  If  I 
succeed  there  will  be  four  hundred  acres  of  the 
finest  land  in  the  world." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  99 

"  Dreen  it  ?  Dreen  the  Dead  Sea  ?  "  Ony 
roared  in  amazement.  "  Why,  if  the  Almighty 
had  a-intended  it  to  be  dreened  he  would  n't 
a-made  it !  " 

"  You  might  as  well  say,  sir,  that  if  he  had 
intended  your  woods  to  be  cleared  he  would  n't 
have  made  them." 

"  Oom,  well,"  not  quite  so  positively,  "  I 
reckon  that  argument  don't  hold,  Andy.  In 
the  beginning  he  created  the  water  and  the 
dry  land,  an'  he  set  his  marks  and  demarks. 
An'  he  said,  thus  fur  an'  no  furder ;  an'  thus 
fur  an'  no  furder  it  has  been  and  shill  be,  tell 
time  shill  be  no  mo'.  Nobody  befo'  ever 
thought  of  such  a  outlandish  thing  as  dreenin' 
the  Dead  Sea.  Nobody  but  you,  Andy  Out- 
cault,  ever  would  a-thought  of  it.  Say,  how 
the  gormnation  ken  you  dreen  her,  anyhow, 
Andy  ? " 

Cap'n  Pow  was  no  longer  moved  to  laugh. 
He  was  flushed  with  excitement,  and  his  soft 
beard  was  suffering  from  the  nervous  unrest  of 
his  hand.  "  If  anybody  can  do  it,"  he  volun- 
teered, "  I  '11  lay  you  Andrew  can,  Ony 
Swango !  " 

Ony  Swango  had  long  been  considered  one 
of  the  most  "  enterprising  "  men  of  the  county. 


ioo  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

He  had  made  money  while  his  neighbors  had 
merely  made  a  living.  He  had  been  among 
the  first  to  recognize  and  utilize  the  new  con- 
ditions following  the  abolition  of  slavery.  He 
farmed  as  a  vocation,  not  as  an  avocation.  He 
was  a  leader  of  those  who  discontinued  the 
cultivation  of  cotton  for  diversified  crops  of 
grain  and  grass.  He  introduced  new  methods 
and  new  machinery.  But  he  still  believed  in 
the  goose-bone  as  a  weather  prophet,  and  he 
still  insisted  that  the  "  razor-backed  "  hog, 
mast-fed,  was  the  only  meat  fit  to  be  hung 
up  in  the  smoke-house  ;  while  it  would  have 
occurred  to  him  as  readily  to  doubt  the  exist- 
ence of  old-fashioned  "  hell-fire  "  as  to  lay  an 
iconoclastic  hand  on  such  a  landmark  as  the 
Dead  Sea. 

He  listened  with  an  occasional  non-commit- 
tal "  Oom  !  "  as  Andrew  Outcault  explained 
his  plans.  They  were  surely  simple  enough. 
A  ridge  of  rock  was  to  be  blasted  away  and 
an  outlet  for  the  water  was  to  be  thus  provided 
through  Swango's  Gap  into  the  river.  Higher 
up,  at  the  mouth  of  the  gorge  through  which 
the  Dead  Sea  was  fed  by  the  spring  floods, 
a  levee  was  to  be  constructed,  and  the  Dead 
Sea,  thus  dammed  at  one  end  and  drained  at 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  101 

the  other,  would  soon  be  a  four-hundred  acre 
tract  of  rich  alluvial  land. 

Outcault  was  explicit  and  confident;  Cap'n 
Pow  was  enthusiastic ;  Ony  Swango  sat  down 
again,  grunting  dubiously  and  occasionally 
putting  a  gruff  question  as  the  young  man 
pressed  his  arguments.  It  was  not  until 
several  days  later,  after  two  other  interviews 
with  Outcault  on  the  subject,  and  after  Ony 
had  laboriously  re-read  the  first  chapters  of 
the  Book  of  Genesis,  that  he  consented  to  let 
Outcault  try  his  "projick;  "  the  terms  being 
that  in  case  of  its  success  Outcault  was  to 
have  half  of  the  reclaimed  land. 


IO2  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


IX 


WHEN  the  details  of  this  transaction  became 
public,  as  they  soon  did,  Feme  Run  and  the 
surrounding  country  awoke  to  a  mild  sensa- 
tion of  amused  gossip.  It  was  the  joke  of  the 
day,  and  of  many  days.  Ony  Swango  had 
taken  up  a  lot  of  "new-fangled  notions,"  but 
nobody  had  expected  him  to  countenance  such 
a  visionary  scheme  as  this.  He  would  be  try- 
ing to  make  a  fish-pond  of  Bald  Knob  next. 
And  as  if  there  were  not  more  land  all  around 
him  than  was  cultivated,  or  than  there  was 
any  use  for !  Maybe  he  expected  to  bottle  the 
Dead  Sea  and  supply  the  world  with  Colonel 
Sellers'  celebrated  eyewater.  As  for  young 
Outcault,  he  was  the  real  point  of  the  joke. 
He  was  clearly  the  son  of  his  father,  and  the 
breed  was  cropping  out  early.  If  you  could 
not  make  a  silk  purse  from  a  sow's  ear,  no 
more  could  you  make  one  from  any  of  her 
litter.  Ony  Swango  ought  to  be  smart  enough 
to  remember  Jerry  Outcault  and  his  cotton- 
picker;  many  of  those  who  made  this  remark, 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  103 

however,  failing  to  remember  that  Ony  Swango 
had  been  smart  enough  to  avoid  the  trap  in 
which  they  themselves  had  been  caught  by 
Jerry  Outcault  and  his  cotton-picker. 

Ony,  when  thus  twitted,  did  not  appear  to 
be  disturbed.  "  Oom,"  he  would  grunt  good- 
naturedly,  "  I  ain't  got  nothin'  to  lose,  an'  I 
have  got  two  hundrud  acre  of  extry  Ian'  to  gain. 
An'  don't  you  worry  about  Andy  Outcault. 
Any  boy  that  could  bring  out  Cap'n  Pow 
Halliburton's  farm  like  Andy's  done  —  an* 
Cap'n  Pow  a-puttin'  in  all  his  licks  a-larruppin' 
the  judge  an'  jury  an'  a-lambastin'  the  Yankee 
army  —  will  be  mighty  ap'  to  take  keer  of 
hisse'f." 

Andrew  Outcault  was  not  unaware  that  he 
was  looked  upon  as  a  great  joke  now,  but  that 
affected  him  even  less  than  it  did  Ony  Swango. 
He  went  energetically  about  his  preparations 
for  his  new  work,  smiling,  perhaps,  or  respond- 
ing briefly  in  kind,  but  losing  no  time,  when 
some  countryman,  with  his  leg  over  the  saddle 
pommel,  inquired  how  much  mud-cat  he  ex- 
pected to  raise  to  the  acre. 

At  the  outset  he  was  retarded  by  the  unfore- 
seen difficulty  of  obtaining  hands.  The  negroes 
refused  to  take  employment  on  the  Dead  Sea, 


104  ked  Blood  and  Blue 

They  would  not  challenge  the  malevolent 
powers  of  the  unseen  world  by  meddling  with 
their  works  in  this.  So  it  was  that  on  the 
autumn  day  when  Andrew  Outcault  began  his 
operations  against  the  Dead  Sea  his  only 
assistants  were  Line,  the  son  of  Bev,  and  a 
Polish  Jew,  whom  Line  called  "  a  Dutchman," 
—  for  in  this  region  all  foreigners  whose  native 
tongue  was  not  English  were  known  by  both 
whites  and  blacks  as  "  the  Dutch."  Line, 
having  spent  several  years  of  his  youth  in 
that  centre  of  enlightenment  for  his  be- 
nighted race,  the  city  of  Nashville,  prided 
himself  upon  his  superiority  to  the  foibles  of 
the  "  country  niggers."  Yet  even  Line,  when 
he  and  Andrew  had  each  drilled  into  the  rock 
at  the  edge  of  the  Dead  Sea,  insisted  that  not 
his  charge,  but  Andrew's,  should  be  the  first 
to  be  fired,  the  while  he  rolled  his  eyes  across 
the  murky  water,  on  the  far  shore  of  which  the 
gaunt  form  of  old  Dru  Wingate  was  standing 
sternly  in  the  door  of  her  hut. 

The  explosion  of  that  first  blast  stirred  into 
unprecedented  commotion  the  stillness  of  the 
Dead  Sea.  There  were  the  "swish"  and 
"  chug  "  of  slimy  things  as  they  slid  or  plunged 
into  the  water;  among  the  reeds  were  croaks 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  105 

from  hoarse  throats  and  the  sweep  of  wings 
in  sudden  flight;  high  up  a  buzzard  floating 
sluggishly  over  the  putrescent  morass  tremu- 
lously flapped  its  pinions  and,  wheeling,  fled 
beyond  the  rim  of  the  barrens  ;  on  the  surface 
of  the  shivering  pool  the  white  belly  of  a 
dead  fish  gleamed  in  the  sun  ;  while  following 
the  ripples  straight  across  the  lake  toward  the 
now  empty  door  of  old  Dru  Wingate's  hut,  the 
small,  sinister  heads  of  a  pair  of  water-snakes, 
as  sharply  defined  as  intaglios,  cleft  their  way. 
Seeing  which,  Line,  in  a  voice  splitting  be- 
tween hysterical  defiance  and  defence,  broke 
into  the  old  song  of  the  quarters: 

"  Wake,  snakes,  day 's  a-breakin' !  " 

The  reverberations  of  that  first  blast  beat 
through  the  calm  of  the  countryside  for  miles 
around,  and  at  the  sound  the  farm-wife  came 
to  the  door  to  look  under  the  shadow  of  her 
hand  for  the  thunder-cloud,  remarking  that 
she  had  known  that  it  would  rain  before  night ; 
while  the  business  man  in  Feme  Run,  uncross- 
ing his  legs  and  brushing  the  whittlings  from 
his  trousers,  chuckled  that  the  more  fools 
there  were  like  Andrew  Outcault  the  more 
blasting  powder  would  be  sold.  Cap'n  Pow 


io6  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Halliburton,  sitting  in  front  of  his  office  and 
entertaining  a  group  of  fellow-idlers  with  proofs 
of  how  the  Confederacy  would  have  "  whipped  " 
if  Forrest  had  been  in  command  at  Fort  Don- 
elson,  sprang  to  his  feet  as  if  at  a  sudden  call 
to  boots  and  saddles,  and  with  head  thrown 
back  said,  in  a  voice  that  was  a  cross  between 
the  note  of  a  clarion  and  the  pop  of  a  whip-lash : 

"  By  the  godts  ! " 

Then,  with  a  magnificent  sweep  of  his  arm 
which  carried  his  hand  from  the  roots  of  his 
beard  to  its  tips  and  thence  half  around  the 
circle  of  the  horizon,  he  added  : 

"Gentlemen,  do  you  know  what  that  is? 
It  is  the  sunrise  gun  —  the  sunrise  gun  for 
the  county  of  Torrance,  gentlemen !  " 

And  in  another  minute  he  was  again  lolling 
in  his  chair,  fighting  over  the  war  as  it  should 
have  been  fought. 

Squire  Kemp,  leaning  out  of  his  buggy  to 
chat  with  Ony  Swango  over  Ony's  pasture 
fence,  also  heard  the  boom  of  Andrew  Out- 
cault's  opening  blast,  and  the  Squire  laughed 
broadly  in  Ony's  face. 

"  '  Dah,  now! ' "  was  the  Squire's  comment. 
"  As  the  old  darky  said  when  the  first  gun  at 
Sumter  was  fired,  '  dah,  now !  hell  done  laid 
a  aigg!'" 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  107 

"  Oom,  I  dunno,"  Ony  Swango  replied, 
biting  a  dried  spear  of  blue-grass.  "Maybe 
it  is  a  aigg,  but  I  dunno  about  the  breed  of 
Andy's  hen." 

It  was  not  long  before  Andrew  Outcault 
had  all  the  laborers  he  wished.  After  that 
first  explosion  old  Dru  Wingate  was  never 
again  seen  in  that  part  of  the  country.  Out- 
cault said  that  she  must  have  departed  during 
the  night,  but  there  was  a  report  among  the 
negroes,  authorized  by  no  less  a  personage 
than  Line  himself,  that  the  old  woman  had 
been  blown  straight  from  the  doorway  of  her 
hut  to  another  world  when  that  first  charge 
of  blasting  powder  was  touched  off.  The 
devil's  vicegerent  having  thus  been  removed 
from  her  haunts  on  the  Dead  Sea,  there  was 
no  dearth  of  black  hands  to  do  Outcault's 
bidding,  though  there  was  not  one  of  them, 
including  even  Line,  who,  notwithstanding 
Dru's  translation,  would  remain  a  minute 
after  "  sundown." 

The  work  went  on  throughout  the  fall  and 
winter,  and  before  the  floods  of  the  spring 
came  an  outlet  had  been  made  for  the  water 
through  Swango's  Gap,  the  inlet  above  had 
been  strongly  dammed,  and  the  summer  of 


io8  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

the  next  year  saw  what  had  been  the  bottom 
of  the  Dead  Sea  a  vast  field  of  luxuriant 
Indian  corn.  Andrew  Outcault's  three  hun- 
dred dollars  of  capital  was  now  represented 
by  two  hundred  acres  of  land  that  was  ac- 
knowledged by  those  who  had  laughed  at 
him  most  to  be  worth  from  fifteen  to  twenty 
thousand  dollars. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  109 


ABOUT  five  years  later  Andrew  Outcault  was, 
for  the  first  time,  perhaps,  the  subject  of  a 
general  conversation  at  the  The  Mounds.  It 
was  at  the  supper  table.  The  dining-room, 
with  its  high  ceiling,  with  its  frescoing  dimmed 
into  a  misty  phantasmagoria,  and  its  zinc- 
painted  woodwork,  once  a  glistening  white, 
now  a  creamy  yellow,  was  similar  in  construc- 
tion to  the  drawing-room,  from  which  it  was 
divided  by  a  pair  of  sliding  mahogany  doors 
that  had  been  brought  with  the  Chippendale 
furniture  from  the  homestead  of  Victoria  Tor- 
ranee's  maternal  ancestors  in  Virginia.  These 
doors  were  now  open,  and  but  for  the  great 
mirror  in  its  tarnished  frame  covering  the  en- 
tire space  between  the  high  front  windows  of 
the  drawing-room,  and  but  for  the  furniture 
and  the  newer  and  cheaper  carpet  of  the 
dining-room,  the  two  apartments  were  one  in 
appearance.  The  tall  mantels,  the  hearths, 
and  the  skirting-boards  were  of  gray  marble, 


no  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

sometimes  stained  and  oftener  cracked.  The 
pictures  were  confined  to  family  portraits,  con- 
spicuous among  which  were  that  of  the  pioneer 
James  York  Torrance  in  skin  cap  and  hunt- 
ing shirt,  and  one  by  Jouett  of  the  present 
James  York  Torrance's  father,  in  the  nonde- 
script uniform  in  which  he  had  fought  with 
Jackson  at  New  Orleans. 

Over  the  dining-table  hung  fans  of  peacock 
plumes,  which  were  pulled  backward  and  for- 
ward by  means  of  a  cord  in  the  hands  of  a 
young  negro ;  while  the  "  likeliest "  yellow 
girl  on  the  place  was  kept  busy  bringing  fresh 
supplies  of  hot  biscuits  and  waffles  from  the 
kitchen.  James  York  Torrance  sat  at  one  end 
of  the  table  and  Miss  Juliana  Torrance  at  the 
other.  Besides  Victoria,  Clara,  and  Lee  Tor- 
rance, there  were  present  Rosalie  Kemp  and 
Arthur  Feme.  Feme  had  just  declined  a 
fourth  offer  of  hot  biscuits  and  Lee  was  accept- 
ing a  second  helping  of  chicken. 

"  Speaking  of  chicken,"  Lee  said  abruptly, 
with  nothing  of  the  manner  which  distin- 
guished his  father,  "there's  a  new  kind  in 
the  country.  Andrew  Outcault  imported 
them  for  Janet  Rearden.  Says  they  '11  lay 
seventy  per  cent,  more  eggs,  are  easier  to 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  1 1 1 

raise,  and  make  better  eating  than  common 
chickens.  But  the  old-fashioned,  long-tailed, 
yellow-legged,  every-day  chicken  is  good 
enough  for  me." 

At  the  mention  of  Andrew  Outcault's  name 
Miss  Juliana  and  Miss  Clara  glanced  furtively 
at  James  York  Torrance,  and  Miss  Juliana 
threw  a  look  of  reproof  at  Lee.  James  York 
Torrance,  however,  betrayed  only  polite  atten- 
tion to  the  remarks  of  his  son,  and  himself 
broke  the  unusual  silence  which  followed 
them. 

"  That  young  man,"  he  said,  "  is  full  of 
new  ideas,  I  believe,  since  he  returned  from 
that  school  up  North.  What  school  was  it, 
Lee?" 

"  I  don't  know.     Some  heathenish  name." 

"  I  know,"  volunteered  Rosalie  Kemp,  tri- 
umphantly. "  It  was  a  school  of  technology. 
But  I  don't  know  what  a  school  of  technology 
is." 

"  He  was  full  of  new  ideas,  though,  such  as 
they  were,"  said  Arthur  Feme,  "  before  he 
went  to  the  school." 

"  Of  course  he  was  !  "  affirmed  Lee.  "  Look 
at  the  new  kinks  he  put  in  at  Cap'n  Pow  Halli- 
burton's  place,  and  look  at  the  Dead  Sea.  Be- 


112  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

sides,  it  was  a  new  idea  to  go  to  a  school  like 
that.  Nobody  here  ever  did  it  before." 

"  I  think,"  said  Miss  Juliana  Torrance,  level- 
ling her  eyes  at  Lee  over  her  coffee-cup,  "  that 
it  would  be  a  very  good  rule  of  life  not  to  take 
it  upon  one's  self  to  do  what  nobody  here  ever 
did  before." 

"  And  I  think,"  cut  in  Miss  Clara,  impaling 
a  pickled  gherkin  on  her  fork,  "  that  persons 
who  try  to  push  themselves  out  of  their  proper 
places  are  intolerable." 

"  Really,  Clara,"  she  was  answered  by  Rosa- 
lie Kemp,  "  they  say  he  is  very  nice." 

"  How  could  he  be,  Rosalie  ?  "  Miss  Clara 
spoke  conclusively.  "  It  would  be  impossible, 
with  such  an  origin." 

"  I  understand  he  has  made  quite  a  success 
of  his  waterworks  at  Feme  Run,"  said  Arthur 
Ferae. 

"  That 's  what !  "  Lee  corroborated.  "  When 
he  was  trying  to  get  up  the  company  nobody 
would  have  anything  to  do  with  it  except 
Little  Ony  Swango  and  Cap'n  Pow  Halli- 
burton and  that  Dutchman  who  worked  for 
Outcault  on  the  Dead  Sea  —  say,  that  Dutch- 
man will  own  half  of  Feme  Run  yet !  All  the 
rest  of  them  refused  to  touch  the  stock  because 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  113 

they  said  they  had  not  forgotten  Outcault  was 
the  son  of  his  father,  and  —  "  Victoria  caught 
his  eye  with  a  swift,  peremptory,  yet  appealing 
look  of  warning,  and  glancing  at  James  York 
Torrance,  Lee  colored  a  little  and,  with  dropped 
face,  took  a  sup  of  water  before  finishing  in  a 
lower  tone :  "  And  now  the  stock  can't  be 
bought  at  all." 

"  I  hear,"  James  York  Torrance  turned  to 
Feme,  "  that  he  is  also  agitating  a  proposition 
for  a  branch  railroad  between  Feme  Run  and 
Mavistoc." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  Feme  replied ;  "  and  there  is  an 
impression  that  it  may  go  through.  People 
seem  to  be  beginning  to  believe  in  him,  and 
the  opinion  is  that  the  county  will  grant  the 
right  of  way,  though,  of  course,  the  main  diffi- 
culty will  come  when  he  attempts  to  float  the 
bonds  for  its  construction." 

"  A  railroad  for  Feme  Run  !  How  lovely  I  " 
Rosalie  Kemp  exclaimed. 

"  If  Feme  Run  never  has  a  railroad  until 
Andrew  Outcault  builds  it — "  Miss  Clara's 
nose  and  her  sentence  were  both  in  the  air. 

"Well,    railroads    have    their    advantages," 
James    York    Torrance    reflected,    "  but    for 
me  — "  he   paused  and  then  continued  with 
8 


H4  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

his  eyes  on  the  portrait  of  James  York  Tor- 
ranee  the  pioneer  —  "I  am  not  so  sure  that 
I  should  not  be  willing  to  see  our  old  com- 
munity escape  their  materializing  tendencies 
during  my  life-time." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Miss  Juliana,  with  spirit  ; 
"  I  have  travelled  on  the  cars  but  once  since 
the  war,  and  then  there  were  two  disgusting 
creatures  with  a  bottle  of  whiskey  between  them 
in  the  seat  across  the  aisle,  and  there  was  a 
negro  family  in  the  seat  in  front  of  me.  I  'm 
sure  I  'm  well  enough  satisfied  without  any  of 
their  railroads." 

"  The  railroad  is  not  the  only  new  scheme 
Andrew  Outcault  has  on  hand,"  Feme  smiled. 
"  He  has  made  several  trips  away  recently,  and 
I  saw  in  a  Nashville  paper  the  other  day  that 
he  had  an  option  on  some  old  lands  down  the 
river  that  he  believed  contained  valuable  phos- 
phate beds." 

"  And  that  is  n't  all !  "  broke  in  Lee.  "  I 
heard  of  his  very  latest  to-day.  What  do  you 
reckon  he  is  going  to  take  to  raising  on  his 
Dead  Sea  farm  ?  " 

"Wooden  nutmegs?"  answered  Miss  Clara. 

"  You  would  n't  guess  in  a  week.  Horse- 
radishes.'' 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  1 1 5 

"  Horse-radishes !  "  cried  Miss  Juliana,  with 
a  little  laugh  much  higher  pitched  than  was 
often  heard  from  her. 

"  Horse-radishes  or  horse-ponds  ? "  returned 
Miss  Clara. 

"Why,  I  thought  horse-radish  came  in  bot- 
tles," confessed  Rosalie  Kemp. 

"  Then  it  will  come  in  bottles  for  that  chap 
if  it  comes  for  anybody  else,"  Lee  replied. 

"Are  n't  you  mistaken,  Lee  ?  "  asked  James 
York  Torrance.  "  What  could  one  possibly 
do  with  any  considerable  quantity  of  horse- 
radishes ? " 

"  Outcault  says  there  is  a  good  market  for  all 
he  can  produce,  father.  He  has  been  experi- 
menting, and  analyzing  the  soil,  and  all  that, 
and  he  says  that  horse-radishes  are  what  about 
ten  acres  of  it  is  best  adapted  for.  So  Janet 
Rearden  told  me." 

"  Janet  Rearden  !  Why  will  you  associate 
with  such  people,  Lee?  "  chided  Miss  Juliana. 

"  Janet  Rearden  ?  "  he  answered  in  affected 
surprise.  "  Why,  present  company  excepted, 
she's  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  county." 

"  It  is  useless  to  remonstrate  with  Lee  Tor- 
rance about  his  associates,  Cousin  Juliana," 
Miss  Clara  reminded  her,  with  resigned 
disapproval. 


n6  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  Waterworks,  railroad,  phosphate  beds, 
horse-radish  farm,"  repeated  James  York  Tor- 
ranee,  with  one  of  his  rare,  gentle  smiles :  "  are 
there  any  other  worlds  which  this  young  Alex- 
ander has  set  himself  to  conquer  ?  " 

No  one  answered  until  Rosalie  Kemp  spoke. 
"  He  was  at  church  with  Mabel  Gorman  Sun- 
day night,"  she  said. 

There  was  a  laugh  around  the  table,  and 
Rosalie  blushed  a  little.  "  Oh,  I  did  n't  mean 
that ! "  she  protested. 

"Beaux  are  scarce  at  Feme  Run,"  explained 
Miss  Clara. 

"  But  not  with  Mabel  Gorman,  Clara,"  Vic- 
toria suggested. 

"  It  was  not  until  recently,  I  believe,"  Feme 
said,  "that  Outcault  appeared  to  care  for  the 
society  of  the  ladies." 

"  It  was  not  until  recently,  after  people  began 
talking  about  his  success  in  making  a  few 
dollars,"  Miss  Clara  retorted,  "  that  the  ladies 
would  have  anything  to  do  with  him.  Feme 
Run  society  seems  to  be  getting  very  modern. 
I  suppose  it  will  be  taking  up  the  Dutch  next." 

Rosalie  Kemp  usually  wished  to  laugh  when 
Miss  Clara  was  serious  and  severe,  but  Rosalie 
only  dimpled  and  smiled  now.  "  I  met  Andrew 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  117 

Outcault  last  week  at  Mabel  Gorman's,"  she 
said,  "  and,  actually,  Clara,  he  was  not  so 
abominable.  Really,  I  rather  liked  him." 

"  One  can  rather  like  a  person,"  Miss  Clara 
decreed,  "  without  forgetting  who  he  is." 

"  Or  without  forgetting  his  proper  place," 
mildly  echoed  Miss  Juliana. 

"  Or  without  forgetting  that  he  is  able  to 
make  a  living  for  himself,"  mocked  Lee. 

"  And,"  continued  Rosalie,  her  smile  gather- 
ing more  mischief,  "  I  do  believe  he  would 
have  asked  permission  to  call  on  me  — " 

"The  presumption!  "interjected  Miss  Clara. 

"  —  if  I  had  not  asked  him  to  call,"  Rosalie 
completed. 

"  Ros-a-lie  Kemp  ! "  was  all  that  Miss  Clara 
could  or  would  say  ;  but  there  was  a  sufficiency 
in  the  way  she  said  it  and  the  way  she  looked 
it. 

"To  so  forget  your  family  graveyard!" 
Lee  caught  the  tone  of  his  sister  as  his  eyes 
twinkled  across  the  table  upon  Rosalie. 

For  a  little  Miss  Juliana  seemed  to  hesitate 
as  to  what  construction  she  should  put  upon 
Rosalie's  avowal;  then  she  said  with  forced 
lightness,  as  she  deposited  her  napkin  on  the 
table : 


n8  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  Why,  Clara,  you  never  seem  to  understand 
when  Rosalie  is  joking." 

"  I  am  sure,"  said  James  York  Torrance,  ris- 
ing, "  that  if  the  young  man  has  found  any 
sort  of  favor  with  Rosalie  he  is  to  be  con- 
gratulated upon  his  fortune  more  than  upon 
a  dozen  successful  railroads  and  phosphate 
mines." 

Rosalie  curtsied  airily  to  this  gallant  speech 
and  caught  the  old  man's  arm  as  he  turned 
from  the  table.  His  other  hand  was  slipped 
into  one  of  Victoria's,  and  between  the  two 
girls  he  walked  from  the  dining-room,  bending 
his  well-poised  white  head  to  either  side  that 
their  prattle  might  not  escape  his  failing  ears. 
Rosalie  Kemp's  cheeriness  and  her  fearless- 
ness of  himself  were  peculiarly  grateful  to  this 
reticent,  sensitive  recluse,  and  next  to  Victoria, 
whose  devotion  to  him  grew  stronger  and  ten- 
derer, if  possible,  as  he  grew  older  and  feebler, 
he  liked  to  have  Rosalie  near  him. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  119 


XI 


LATE  one  afternoon  Andrew  Outcault,  a  few 
minutes  after  he  had  ridden  past  the  Kemp 
homestead,  met  Rosalie's  dog-cart  —  Rosalie's 
phaeton  had  now  been  succeeded  by  the  more 
fashionable  vehicle.  Rosalie  was  driving,  and 
Outcault  knew,  as  soon  as  the  cart  came  in  sight 
over  the  hill  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  that  her 
companion  was  Victoria  Torrance.  The  sun, 
dropping  over  the  hill  behind  them,  threw  them 
into  bold  relief,  and  played  like  electricity  on 
the  metal  of  the  harness.  Outcault  instantly 
stiffened  in  his  saddle,  as  if  it  had  been  veritable 
electricity  and  had  charged  his  own  body;  his 
head  went  higher,  and  he  breathed  the  deep 
breath  that  sends  the  blood  tingling  through  all 
one's  being.  The  horse  felt  the  change  in  the 
rider  and  at  once  responded  with  quickened 
pace.  Almost  before  the  last  of  the  black- 
birds which  flew  up  at  his  feet  had  settled 
with  garrulous  expostulations  in  the  tree-tops 
the  two  horses  were  so  near  together  that 
Outcault  saw  the  flexile  curves  of  Victoria's  lips 


120  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

as  she  talked.  His  hand  fell  more  heavily  on 
the  reins  and  his  horse  slackened  to  a  walk. 
Whether  consciously  or  not,  Outcault  was 
doing  what  little  he  could  to  protract  by  even 
a  second  the  draught  permitted  his  long-denied 
eyes  in  passing. 

Riding  to  the  right,  he  drew  so  near  Victoria, 
sitting  on  the  left  side  of  the  cart,  that  he  could 
have  reached  out  and  touched  her  with  his  hand. 
Rosalie  smiled  and  greeted  him,  with  a  note  of 
genuine  cordiality,  and  as  he  swept  his  eyes 
from  her  to  Victoria  she  too  spoke  to  him,  in 
that  manner,  never  lacking  in  courtesy,  and 
ever  marked  by  unlessening  distance,  which 
had  always  characterized  her  salutations  of  him 
since  the  day,  years  ago,  when  he  had  borne 
her  away  from  the  cotton-field. 

Brief  as  it  necessarily  was,  the  look  in  which 
Outcault  held  her,  as  he  approached  and  passed, 
absorbed  in  a  pulsing  image,  which  he  bore  on 
with  him,  every  detail  of  her  presence,  —  the 
beautiful  lines  of  shoulders  and  neck ;  the 
firm  grace  of  chin  and  cheek;  the  soft  warmth 
of  the  clear  skin ;  the  living  hue  of  the  lips ; 
the  star-shot  shadows  of  the  eyes  ;  the  lumin- 
ous face  parting  the  dusk  of  the  hair,  whose 
deeps  of  brown  and  glints  of  amber  might  have 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  121 

been  touched  with  the  afterglow  of  an  ended 
summer  day. 

Outcault  pressed  his  heels  upon  his  horse's 
sides  and  galloped  the  rest  of  his  way  with 
long,  free  strides.  It  was  a  habit  of  his,  when 
his  breathing  was  full  and  his  heart-beats  strong, 
to  ride  at  such  a  gait.  There  was  something 
in  its  sweep  and  power  that  was  in  grateful 
consonance  with  his  mood.  Thus  he  rode  when 
his  mind  surged  with  some  new  and  daring 
determination  to  break  through  his  environ^ 
ments  in  fighting  his  way  upward.  Thus  he 
had  ridden  that  Monday  when  he  had  deter- 
mined upon  the  redemption  of  the  Dead  Sea 
valley ;  thus  he  had  ridden,  mile  after  mile,  on 
the  day  when  he  had  decided  that  the  county 
should  have  a  railway  outlet.  He  was  rid- 
ing now  to  a  sudden  resolution  that  meant 
more  to  him  than  had  any  of  the  others  which 
had  so  affected  his  life.  It  was  the  resolu- 
tion to  accept  Rosalie  Kemp's  invitation  to 
call  —  to  accept  it  to-night,  because  to-night 
Victoria  Torrance  would  be  with  Rosalie 
Kemp. 

Except  for  a  glimpse  of  her  now  and  then  in 
her  distant  pew  at  church,  or  when  passing  her 
pji  the  highroad,  as  he  had  passed  her  this 


122  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

afternoon,  he  had  not  seen  Victoria  since  the 
incident    of   Rosalie  Kemp's    memorable   and 
never   repeated    cotton-picking    picnic.      The 
work  to  which  he  had  set  himself  on  the  night 
when  Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton  had  told  Andrew 
Outcault  the  story  of  his  father  exacted  of  him 
long  years  of  otherwise  directed  energy  before 
it  would  permit   him  to   think   of  any  actual 
attempt  to  change  the  personal  relations  be- 
tween Victoria  Torrance  and  himself  more  in 
accordance  with  his  ever-present  passion  and 
ultimate  purpose.     That  work  proposed  that  he 
should  win  for  himself  among  the  people  who 
had  known  his  father  a  place  which  would  com- 
pel the  respect  his  father  had  forfeited ;  that 
he   should  repair  the  wrongs   his  father  had 
done,  at  least  to  the  extent  of  making  good 
every  dollar  of  his  father's  theft ;    and  that  if 
ever  again  he  was  to  be  ordered  from  any  man's 
premises,  as  he  had  been  on  the  day  when  he 
had  shot  James  York  Torrance's  pigeon,  or  if 
he  was  to  be  denied  by  any  man  aught  which 
was  deemed  the  due  from  one  manly  man  to 
another,  it  should  not  be  because,  in  the  clear- 
ing-house of  men  among  men,  there  should  be 
any    balance    of    obligation    and  performance, 
against  himself. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  1 23 

The  varying  fortunes  of  undaunting  failure 
and  forced  success  which  had  befallen  him 
through  all  these  years  had  been  such  that  for 
some  time  now  he  had  felt  he  was  at  least  near 
that  point  in  the  course  he  had  marked  for  him- 
self at  which  he  would  be  able  to  make  res- 
toration of  the  money  his  father  had  stolen. 
Though'  Outcault  had  never  disclosed  such  a 
purpose,  yet,  it  being  now  agreed  that  there 
was  "  something  in  him,"  that  he  was  a  "  hus- 
tler "  of  self-reliance  and  pluck,  and  that  while 
he  was  undoubtedly  clouded  by  a  past  he 
was  also  "  a  rising  young  man  "  in  a  region 
where  there  was  no  surplus  of  young  men  of 
any  kind,  bars  began  slowly  to  fall  and  doors 
to  open  which  offered  him  a  partial  entrance, 
if  no  more,  to  the  social  life  from  which  hereto- 
fore he  had  been  excluded.  Being  vigorously 
healthy  in  mind  as  well  as  in  body,  living  in 
the  present  and  for  the  future,  instead  of  nurs- 
ing the  past,  and  coursing  with  the  currents  of 
youth,  of  active  days,  and  that  sweet  sleep 
which  blesses  one  with  new  birth  every  morn- 
ing, he  had  a  normal  bent  for  the  companion- 
ship of  his  kind,  and  he  accepted,  though  he 
never  sought,  these  opportunities  for  its  grati- 
fication. It  was  thus  that  he  began  occasion- 


124  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

ally  to  take  part  in  the  simple  gayeties  of  the 
young  people  of  Feme  Run  and  the  country- 
side—  the  infrequent  picnics  and  barbecues, 
the  county  fair,  or  a  Christmas  dance.  After 
a  while  there  were  households  where  he  felt 
that  he  was  welcome  to  a  chair  by  the  parlor 
fire,  or  on  the  veranda  when  the  honeysuckles 
bloomed  and  the  girls,  in  cloudy-light  drap- 
eries, laughed  in  the  summer  dusk  or  star- 
light. And  then  it  was  that  on  Sunday 
evenings  at  church,  the  very  centre  of  Feme 
Run's  social  life,  the  one  place  where  everybody 
was  seen  and  everybody  saw,  Andrew  began  to 
appear  among  the  young  men  who  walked  up 
the  aisles  with  the  village  maidens,  and  sat 
beside  them  in  the  pews,  and  held  with  them 
the  same  hymn-books.  When  that  time  came 
Andrew  Outcault,  though  far  from  its  inner 
sanctuary,  was  generally  conceded  to  have  been 
admitted  at  least  into  the  vestibule  of  Feme 
Run  society. 

It  was  thus  that  he  met  Rosalie  Kemp,  and 
when  she  asked  him  to  call  on  her  Outcault 
felt  a  bounding  joy  which  nothing  in  his  lim- 
ited social  experience  had  ever  approached. 
Rosalie  was  Victoria  Torrance's  most  intimate 
friend,  and  what  lover  of  Victoria  Torrance 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  125 

would  not  have  placed  Rosalie  above  all  other 
women,  after  Victoria?  Arthur  Feme  did,  as 
everybody  knew ;  for  it  was  obvious  that 
Arthur  Feme,  in  his  devotion  to  Victoria,  and 
in  his  consideration  lest  he  weary  her  by  too 
great  assiduity,  saw  more,  perhaps,  of  Rosalie 
than  of  Victoria  herself. 

When  Outcault,  as  he  met  the  two  girls  on 
the  highway  this  afternoon,  galloped  on  with 
his  suddenly  formed  intention  to  return  to  the 
Kemps'  that  evening,  it  was  with  no  introspec- 
tive qualms  as  to  the  wisdom  of  such  a  step, 
and  no  speculation  as  to  its  ultimate  results. 
He  had  simply  loosed  the  restraint  he  had  put 
upon  himself  so  long  and  sprung  to  his  desire 
to  see  Victoria  Torrance  face  to  face  again, 
with  no  self-imposed  thought,  beyond  the  im- 
mediate opportunity,  of  either  his  past  or  his 
future. 

When  he  set  out  for  Squire  Kemp's,  after  a 
zest  at  supper  that  inspired  several  of  Cap'n 
Pow  Halliburton's  best  campaign  stories,  the 
new  moon  was  sinking  behind  a  greenish  pyr- 
amid of  cloud  in  the  west,  and  there  was  a 
fitful  stir  in  the  stagnant  atmosphere  that 
turned  the  pallid  underleaves  outward  in 
warning.  He  struck  into  the  free  gallop 


126        '     Red  Blood  and  Blue 

that  he  loved,  with  an  exultant  "  Go,  boy ! " 
that  was  responded  to  by  his  horse  with 
lengthened  stride  and  ears  laid  back.  He 
rode  as  if  to  welcome  the  coming  storm,  and 
as  a  lance  of  fire  flashed  from  the  pyramid's 
peak  and  the  first  peal  of  thunder  shook  the 
earth  he  sniffed  in  pure  delight  the  freshen- 
ing air  and  broke  into  a  bar  of  the  drivel 
about  "  Dandy  Jim,"  which  he  had  forgotten 
since  the  days  of  his  boyhood.  Meeting  a 
dog  scurrying,  tail  lowered,  before  the  wind, 
he  fell  into  another  trick  of  his  boyhood,  and 
with  a  wanton  laugh  bent  from  his  saddle  and, 
brushing  the  dog  with  his  hand,  sent  the 
frightened  creature  yelping  into  the  woods. 
Swiftly  the  pyramid  rose  and  spread  ;  the  stars 
before  him  and  then  above  him  disappeared, 
and  when  he  had  ridden  three-fourths  of  the 
way  to  Squire  Kemp's  the  big  drops  began  to 
fall.  In  another  minute  they  were  coming  in 
a  fusillade ;  then  in  sheets.  Black  darkness 
closed  down,  and  only  the  lightning  showed 
him  the  road  between  the  torrents  that  rushed 
at  its  sides  and  under  its  culverts.  Strange, 
vast  sounds  filled  the  forest  on  either  hand,  — 
the  creak  and  crash  of  wrested  bough,  the 
stress  of  bended  bole,  the  fierce  chords  and 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  127 

mysterious  undertones,  the  moan  and  sough, 
the  rage  and  glee,  the  hurtling  roar  and  plain- 
tive sob,  of  wind  and  rain,  leaf  and  wood. 

The  storm  passed  almost  as  swiftly  as  it  had 
come,  and  Outcault  left  it  behind  him  as  his 
horse  bounded  over  the  trunk  of  a  tree  that 
had  been  blown  across  the  road.  He  left  be- 
hind him  the  forest  and  its  dying  din  of  spent 
blast  and  cloud,  to  emerge  into  the  open 
stretches  of  grassland  and  tilled  fields,  with 
the  stars  shining;  the  gurgle  of  water  in  the 
gullies ;  the  lisp  of  the  wet  bushes  in  the 
fence  corners ;  the  drip  of  the  foliage ;  the 
purity  of  the  air  that  seemed  to  flow  from 
the  blue,  dark  spaces  of  the  stars  as  from  the 
deeps  of  some  great  cool  cavern ;  the  twinkle 
of  lights  not  far  away  that  meant  the  end  of 
his  journey.  There  was  also  the  click  of 
horseshoes  on  the  macadamed  road  just  ahead 
of  him  ;  and  galloping  to  the  side  of  the  rider, 
Outcault  recognized  Arthur  Feme. 

Outcault  laughed.  "  So  you,  too,  were 
caught  in  that  waterspout,  Mr.  Feme,"  was 
his  greeting. 

"  Hello  !  is  that  you,  Outcault  ? "  Feme 
replied.  "  And  as  wet  as  I  am  ?  J  thought  I 
got  it  all." 


128  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  I  wish  you  had.  I  'd  have  been  willing  to 
spare  my  share  of  it." 

"  It  spoils  a  whole  evening  for  me.  I  was 
on  my  way  to  call  on  some  ladies." 

"  So  was  I.  And  there  they  are,  now,  I 
should  say."  Outcault  pulled  up  his  horse 
in  front  of  the  Kemp  homestead,  set  back  a 
hundred  yards  from  the  road.  The  eastern 
side  of  the  house  had  been  protected  from  the 
storm,  and  the  light  shining  from  the  hall 
showed  that  the  veranda  on  that  side  was 
occupied  by  figures  in  white. 

Feme  reined  in  his  horse  also,  and  turned 
upon  Outcault  a  quick,  unconscious  glance  of 
surprise,  which  Outcault  did  not  see.  "  Our 
destination  was  the  same,  it  seems,"  Feme 
said,  after  a  moment.  "  It 's  too  bad  !  We 
sha'n't  have  time  to  return  home  and  dress 
again.  And  the  night  so  fine,  after  all ! " 

"  Are  n't  you  going  in  ?  "  Outcault  asked, 
as  if  studying  the  problem  before  him. 

"  Why,  no  ;  I  'm  drenched,"  Feme  answered, 
looking  at  his  companion  curiously. 

"  I  am,  too  ;  but  I  have  come  too  far  to 
make  this  call  to  give  it  up  entirely  now." 

"  Why,  man,  surely  —  "  Feme  was  on  the 
point  of  saying,  "  surely  you  would  not  think 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  129 

of  appearing  in  the  presence  of  ladies  in 
your  plight ; "  but  he  did  not  say  it.  He 
would  not  think  of  it  himself.  In  his  view  it 
would  be  a  disrespect  to  ladies  of  which  he 
could  not  be  guilty.  But  it  was  not  in  such 
delicacy  as  his  to  protest  against  or  criticise 
Outcault's  expressed  purpose,  and  he  finished 
his  sentence  with  a  slight  laugh  and,  "Well, 
if  you  are  bent  on  trying  it  I  wish  you  a 
pleasant  time.  Good-evening.  I  '11  strike 
over  to  the  Kelway  pike." 

"  I  'm  going  to  see  if  I  can't  speak  to  them, 
at  least,  from  the  outside,"  Outcault  answered, 
as  Feme  rode  away. 

That  was  Outcault's  solution  of  the  problem. 
He  rebelled  against  returning  wholly  balked  of 
his  object.  He  could  not  enter  the  house,  but  if 
the  girls  were  on  the  veranda  he  might  approach 
as  near  as  the  railing  for  a  few  words  with  them. 
Perhaps  in  the  imperfect  light  his  unpresenta- 
ble condition  might  not  be  noticed. 

At  any  rate,  he  was  not  going  back  now 
without  making  the  experiment.  Under  his 
wet  clothes  he  was  glowing  with  a  physical 
reaction  that  warmed  to  stronger  life  the  spirit 
in  him  which  brooked  no  trifles.  He  opened 
the  gate  and  rode  through.  Throwing  the 
9 


130  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

reins  over  a  hook  in  the  hitching-post  near 
the  house,  he  started  toward  the  white-gowned 
figures  on  the  veranda.  But  he  had  taken 
only  a  few  steps  when  he  saw  that  he  would 
be  unable  to  avoid  the  light .  from  the  hall. 
Rosalie  Kemp  arose,  and  coming  to  meet  him, 
stood  in  its  direct  range. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Outcault,  Victoria,"  she  called. 
"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Outcault  ?  " 

She  extended  her  hand,  and  Outcault,  ad- 
vancing to  take  it,  was  clearly  revealed. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Outcault!"  she  cried;  "you  are 
wringing  wet !  You  must  have  been  in  all  that 
terrible  rain !  " 

"  Yes,"  Outcault  smiled ;  "  but  I  saw  you 
were  out  here,  and  I  thought  I  might  come  as 
far  as  the  edge  of  the  porch,  if  only  for  a 
moment.  Good-evening,  Miss  Torrance." 

"  Good-evening,  Mr.  Outcault." 

Victoria,  sitting  just  beyond  the  line  of 
light,  responded  to  his  greeting  without  ris- 
ing, and  as  she  might  have  responded  to  any 
acquaintance. 

"  Indeed,  you  must  come  right  in  and  dry 
yourself  !  "  Rosalie  insisted.  "  Do  look  at  the 
water  running  from  his  hat,  Victoria." 

Outcault  glanced  down  at  his  hat,  as  he  held 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  131 

it  in  his  hand,  and  at  the  small  stream  trickling 
from  the  brim.  "  I  thank  you,  Miss  Kemp ; 
but  I  could  not  think  of  that.  Really,  it  is  of 
no  consequence." 

"  But  you  must !  Only  —  oh,  dear !  there  is 
no  fire  in  the  house,  unless  there  is  still  some 
in  the  kitchen.  You  must  come  straight  to 
the  kitchen,  Mr.  Outcault." 

"  You  are  very  good,  Miss  Kemp ;  but  please 
do  not  think  any  more  about  it."  Outcault 
was  getting  earnestly  emphatic  now.  "A  wet- 
ting cannot  hurt  me  in  this  weather.  Besides, 
I  shall  be  on  my  horse  again  in  a  minute." 

"  Oh,  I  know  !  "  Rosalie  proclaimed,  in  sud- 
den triumph.  "  Papa  shall  give  you  some  dry 
clothes.  Sit  down  just  a  second,  Mr.  Outcault. 
O  papa  !  papa  !  "  and  she  disappeared  through 
the  hall,  calling  her  father,  and  paying  no  heed 
to  Outcault's  vigorous  protest. 

Outcault  was  becoming  a  little  vexed  that  he 
should  have  got  himself  into  a  situation  to 
suggest  such  demands  upon  hospitality.  His 
face  showed  his  vexation  as  he  stood  looking 
after  his  vanished  hostess.  Then  the  absur- 
dity of  it  came  over  him,  and  he  turned  his 
eyes  to  those  of  Victoria  Torrance.  For  a 
little  they  looked  at  each  other  in  waiting 


132  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

silence,  broken  then  by  the  spontaneous  laugh- 
ter of  each;  and  Victoria  repeated  Rosalie's 
invitation : 

"  Won't  you  sit  down,  Mr.  Outcault  ?  " 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  Miss  Torrance.  But,  of 
course,  I  could  n't !  "  laughing  again  as  he 
shook  the  water  from  his  hat  to  the  ground. 
"  Really,  this  seems  very  ridiculous  ;  but  I  did 
not  intend  to  cause  all  this  commotion.  The 
simple  truth  is  that  I  deceived  myself  with  the 
belief  that  I  could  stop  by  for  a  few  minutes  in 
the  darkness  without  exposing  my  wetness  to 
discovery." 

Nevertheless  the  glow  of  his  body  was  in- 
creased just  then  by  gladness  that  he  had  come ; 
for  never  before  had  he  felt  that  Victoria  Tor- 
rance was  so  near  to  him  as  when  she  had 
laughed  with  him  at  his  predicament. 

Squire  Kemp  bustled  out,  beaming  with  the 
instinct  of  impersonal  hospitality. 

"  How  are  you,  Outcault,  how  are  you?  But 
I  see !  Come  right  along  with  me,"  he  insisted, 
"  and  I  '11  fix  you  out  right  away.  I  Ve  got  a 
suit  of  tow-linen  that  the  ladies  think  irre 
sistible." 

The  squire's  laugh  was  jolly,  but  his  re- 
peated invitation  was  a  command.  Outcault, 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  133 

renewing  his  demurrer  and  declination,  was 
beginning  to  feel  that  he  must  obey  or  retreat, 
when  Rosalie  reappeared,  bearing  a  waiter  on 
which  were  two  goblets  topped  with  sheaves 
of  green  mint. 

"  You  must  drink  this  at  once,"  she  ordered, 
going  up  to  Outcault ;  "  it  will  keep  you  from 
taking  cold." 

"  Or  taking  anything  else,"  the  squire  added 
proudly.  "  Young  man,  you  will  join  me  in  a 
glass  of  Lincoln  County  that  is  older  than  you 
are." 

"  With  pleasure,  Squire." 

Outcault  lifted  one  of  the  goblets  from  the 
waiter  as  Squire  Kemp  appropriated  the 
other. 

"  Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton's  toast,"  the  squire 
said,  touching  his  glass  to  Outcault's  and  in- 
cluding Victoria  and  Rosalie  in  the  sweep  of 
his  eyes  and  his  arm.  "  '  To  the  ladies :  there 
is  no  liquor  too  good  to  drink  to  them  ;  there  is 
none  good  enough  for  them  to  drink.' " 

The  juleps  were  disposed  of  and  the  squire 
added,  as  he  wiped  his  lips :  "  I  like  that  toast. 
It  fits  our  Southern  women.  Why,  Arthur 
Feme  was  telling  me  the  other  day  that  at  a 
place  called  Syracuse,  in  the  State  of  New 


134  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

York,  the  most  elegant  ladies  not  only  drank 
juleps  with  him,  but  they  drank  julep  for  julep, 
sir  !  What  is  the  country  up  there  coming  to, 
Outcault?  Think  of  it!  And  think  of  the 
sort  of  liquor  they  must  have  to  drink,  sir,  in 
Syracuse,  New  York  !  " 

Outcault,  recognizing  the  fact  that  there  was 
nothing  for  him  to  do  but  change  his  clothes 
or  leave,  soon  took  his  departure,  with  a  touch 
of  Rosalie's  offered  hand  and  a  "  Good-night, 
Miss  Torrance,"  to  Victoria,  who  responded 
in  the  same  words  and  the  same  perfect  man- 
ner in  which  she  had  greeted  him  on  his 
coming. 

He  was  followed  to  his  horse  by  Squire 
Kemp,  who  wanted  more  time  to  discuss 
Arthur  Feme's  report  that  in  the  North  it  was 
almost  impossible  for  a  gentleman  to  get  a 
drink  of  "good  liquor."  "Do  you  know  what 
those  people  up  there  make  what  they  call 
whiskey  out  of?  Rye,  sir !  Upon  my  word,  sir, 
rye !  Why,  sir,  Arthur  Feme  tells  me  that  there 
is  many  a  man  up  there  who  professes  to  be  an 
expert  on  the  subject  of  good  liquor  who  never 
saw  a  drop  of  Bourbon  in  his  life.  Think  of 
that !  As  Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton  says, '  They 
licked  us,  and  they  may  lick  us  again  and 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  135 

again,  but,  by  the  godts  !  they  never  can  lick  us 
into  an  integral  part  of  a  country  that  drinks 
rye-water  for  whiskey ! '  Well,  young  man, 
how 's  that  railroad  coming  on  ?  " 

"  Not  as  well  as  I  could  wish,  squire  ;  but  it 
will  be  built." 

"  You  think  so  ?  " 

"  I  know  it." 

"  And  of  course  you  are  as  sure  it  will  pay  a 
man  to  invest  a  few  dollars  in  it." 

"  In  one  way,  yes  ;  in  another,  I  am  not  so 
sure.  It  will  pay  us  all  because  it  will  give  us 
an  outlet  to  market,  but,  frankly,  I  doubt  if  it 
can  pay  dividends  on  the  stock  for  a  long  time, 
if  ever.  But  the  bonds  will  be  safe  for  four  per 
cent.  You  have  not  made  your  subscription 
yet." 

"  Subscription  !  I  don't  want  any  four  per 
cent,  investment." 

"But  you  want  the  road.  And  it  won't  be 
many  years  before  you  will  be  glad  to  get 
good  four  per  cent,  investments." 

"  Well,  come  to  see  me  some  time  and  we 
will  talk  it  over." 

Outcault  smiled  as  he  sprang  into  the  saddle. 
He  knew  what  "  some  time  "  meant  among  his 
happy-go-lucky  neighbors.  "  I  will  meet  you 


136  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

in  Feme  Run  any  day  you  like,  Squire,"  he 
suggested. 

"  Oh,  well,  most  any  day." 

"  Better  name  it,"  Outcault  said,  gathering 
up  the  reins. 

The  squire  laughed.  "  Well,  I  've  got  to  be 
in  town  Thursday,  anyhow." 

"  Then  I  '11  see  you  Thursday.  Good-night, 
Squire  Kemp." 

"  Came  a-courting  and  goes  a-talking  busi- 
ness," chuckled  the  squire  as  he  sauntered 
back  toward  the  house.  "Well,  he's  a  differ- 
ent sort  of  a  business  man  from  his  daddy,  and 
I  '11  bet  piggins  to  pints  he  gets  me  into  that 
railroad  yet." 

As  his  horse  picked  his  way  back  leisurely, 
unurged,  Outcault's  thoughts  were  not  of  rail- 
roads nor  was  his  consciousness  of  the  tonic 
balm  of  the  rain-washed  forest  and  steeped 
earth.  His  revery  was  broken  as  his  horse 
stopped  with  a  whinny  at  Cap'n  Pow  Hallibur- 
ton's  gate.  A  few  minutes  later,  after  a  plunge 
in  the  swimming  pool,  which  was  one  of  the 
"  improvements  "  he  had  made  at  Cap'n  Pow's, 
Outcault  was  in  bed.  But  for  the  first  time  in 
years  he  turned  from  one  side  to  the  other 
wakefully.  Finally,  when  the  cocks  began 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  137 

crowing  the  yet  invisible  dawn,  he  spoke  aloud, 
as  he  settled  his  face  upon  the  pillow. 
"  I  will  marry  her,  so  help  me  God." 
Then  he  set  his  teeth  together,  closed  his 
eyes,  and  went  to  sleep. 


138  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XII 

OUTCAULT  did  not  profess  that  easy  and  all- 
sufficing  philosophy  which  provides,  in  a  uni- 
versal vicar  called  Fate,  a  gratuitous  shift  for 
the  inertia  of  the  indolent  and  the  failure  of  the 
impotent,  and  which  stretches  under  the  in- 
dividual, as  a  netting  between  his  aspirations  in 
the  air  and  his  tumbles  toward  the  earth,  the 
comforting  theory  that  somewhere,  everywhere, 
there  is  a  power  at  once  so  great  and  so  small 
as  to  assume  and  shape  the  individual  fortunes 
of  the  myriads  of  men.  If  he  had  professed 
such  a  philosophy,  he  would  have  complained 
that  Fate  was  playing  him  a  characteristically 
remorseless  trick  when,  just  as  he  had  reached 
that  point  where  he  felt  he  could  turn  his  eyes 
to  Victoria  Torrance,  just  as  he  saw  his  way 
clear  to  wiping  out  the  black  score  his  father 
had  left  and  to  taking  that  place  among  his 
fellows  whence  he  could  make  his  fight  for 
his  life's  desire,  he  should  find  it  his  part 
to  do  that  which  seemed  to  leave  the  chasm 
between  him  and  Victoria  wider  than  ever. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  139 

This  trick  which  he  might  have  ascribed 
to  Fate  was  really  played  by  the  hot  blood  of 
Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton. 

Captain  Powhatan  Halliburton,  known  wher- 
ever he  was  known  at  all  as  Cap'n  Pow,  was 
accustomed  and  proud  to  boast  that  he  was 
still  "  an  unreconstructed  Rebel."  He  had 
come  by  his  military  title  honestly.  He  had 
been  one  of  Forrest's  officers,  and  it  was  well 
understood  wherever  the  fame  of  Cap'n  Pow 
extended  that  the  "  maddest "  moment  in  all 
his  life  had  been  that  night  when  Forrest, 
refusing  to  remain  at  Fort  Donelson  to  be 
bagged  by  Grant,  rode  indignantly  away  with- 
out being  given  an  opportunity  and  aid  to 
bag  Grant.  It  was  also  almost  as  widely 
understood  that  perhaps  the  proudest  day  in 
Cap'n  Pow's  life  was  when  he  dashed  with 
Forrest  down  the  main  street  of  Feme  Run  — 
right  in  front  of  the  house  of  A  Certain  Lady, 
at  whose  door  A  Certain  Lady  herself  stood 
waving  a  handkerchief  —  and  rode  out  again 
a  few  hours  later  with  "a  drove  of  Yankee 
prisoners,"  as  Cap'n  Pow  expressed  it,  far 
outnumbering  their  captors  in  butternut  and 
gray.  And  during  all  the  years  since  his 
return  to  civil  life  these  two  incidents  of  his 


140  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

service  with  Forrest  were  signally  potential 
with  Cap'n  Pow,  —  the  one  for  hope,  the  other 
for  wrath.  Fort  Donelson  was  never  men- 
tioned in  his  presence  without  making  him 
"  mad ;  "  and  it  was  something  stirring  to 
see  and  hear  the  vehemence  of  gesture  and 
words  with  which  he  denounced  the  surrender 
and  proved  that  if  Forrest  had  been  in  com- 
mand Grant  would  have  been  beaten  and  the 
Confederacy  ultimately  would  have  triumphed. 
As  for  the  time  when  he  charged  with  Forrest 
down  the  Feme  Run  street,  —  ah,  well!  it 
was  no  secret,  and  never  had  been  to  those 
who  knew  this  gallant  and  open-hearted  gentle- 
man, that  he  yet  hoped  to  install  as  mistress 
of  his  own  home  the  Lady  who  stood  in  her 
door  that  morning  and  waved  her  handker- 
chief to  the  flying  troopers. 

Cap'n  Pow  was,  as  they  said  in  all  the  Feme 
Run  region,  "  a  mighty  clever  "  man.  If  he 
had  been  politically  ambitious  he  could  have 
had  any  office  "  within  the  gift  of  the  people," 
as  the  Feme  Run  Recorder  had  more  than 
once  testified.  He  was  geniality  itself  when- 
ever he  was  not  "  mad,"  and  he  was  never 
mad  long.  By  no  means  a  minor  factor  of 
his  popularity  was  his  proved  fearlessness  — 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  141 

proved  not  only  in,  but  since,  the  war;  for  it 
was  understood  that  he  had  been  the  leader 
of  the  Ku  Klux  Klan  in  the  county  during 
the  chaotic  period  when  some  such  power 
seemed  necessary,  and  he  was  the  most  daring 
and  active  in  putting  down  the  organization 
when  it  had  degenerated  into  an  instrument 
of  mere  rowdyism  and  crime. 

In  appearance  Cap'n  Pow  was  not  more 
than  the  average  in  height,  with  a  step  which 
had  lost  little  of  the  buoyancy  of  his  youth. 
His  eyes,  bright  and  twinkling,  were  less  the 
"  windows  of  his  soul "  than  the  lights  of  his 
body.  His  dark  hair,  touched  with  gray, 
though  now  thinning  at  the  top,  still  fell  thick 
and  glossy  to  his  velvet  collar.  The  texture 
of  his  skin,  when  closely  shaven,  was  femi- 
ninely fine.  It  was  usually  closely  shaven  on 
his  cheeks,  but  his  lips  and  chin  were  covered 
by  a  silky  beard,  which  was  to  his  left  hand,  in 
some  similitude,  what  the  strings  of  a  guitar 
are  to  the  hand  of  the  player.  Cap'n  Pow 
habitually  played  with  his  left  hand  upon  his 
beard,  and  he  played  the  whole  gamut  of  his 
emotions  —  except  perhaps  when  their  inten- 
sity impelled  to  a  physical  expression  requir- 
ing the  more  forcible  employment  of  his  hands. 


142  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Whether  Cap'n  Pow  sat  on  the  veranda  of  an 
evening,  his  feet  across  the  railing  and  his 
left  hand  slowly  caressing  his  beard  with  the 
leisurely  flow  of  his  reflections,  or  whether  in 
conversation,  animated,  emphatic,  reminiscen- 
tial,  or  speculative,  this  manipulation  of  his 
beard,  not  ungraceful  in  itself,  was  variously 
and  often  vividly  interpretative  of  his  thoughts. 
It  was  even  once  said  by  a  person  of  refine- 
ment that  if  anything  could  mitigate  the 
offence  of  expectorating  tobacco  it  was  the 
deft  deprecation  in  that  performance  with 
which  Cap'n  Pow  swept  his  beard  without  the 
line  of  fire,  and  the  serene  unconsciousness 
with  which  he  readjusted  it  over  any  fleck  that 
may  have  stained  his  shirt-bosom. 

For  Cap'n  Pow  was  fastidious  of  his  dress ; 
and  especially  of  his  boots  and  coat-collars. 
The  boots,  at  least  when -he  visited  the  town 
where  A  Certain  Lady  resided,  were  always 
of  finest  calf,  brightly  polished  and  high-heeled. 
His  collars,  whether  attached  to  coats  of  jeans, 
cassimere,  or  broadcloth,  were  invariably  of 
velvet.  He  had  once  heard  A  Certain  Lady 
say  that  velvet  collars  gave  an  air  of  distinc- 
tion to  a  gentleman,  and  he  could  see  in  his 
own  case  that  they  accentuated  the  fineness 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  143 

of  his  skin  and  his  beard.  He  was  partial  to 
broadcloth,  and  his  coats,  dark  blue  and  full- 
skirted  frocks,  were  rarely  of  any  other  mate- 
rial. With  a  soft  hat  and  a  Lord  Byron  collar, 
he  was  an  attractive  figure  to  feminine  eyes 
when  he  went  to  Feme  Run,  as  he  did  almost 
daily,  and  the  fact  that  he  had  not  yet  married 
was  considered  as  corroborative  of  the  theory 
that  in  affairs  of  the  heart  women  are  much  less 
than  men  influenced  by  personal  appearance. 

Cap'n  Pow  was  by  profession,  though  not 
much  by  practice,  a  lawyer.  There  was,  in- 
deed, but  little  law  practice  at  Feme  Run, 
with  a  surplus  of  lawyers,  and  Cap'n  Pow 
being  accustomed  on  slightest  provocation  to 
fly  into  a  passion  and  denounce  in  violent  and 
rapid  volleys  of  eloquence  the  judge,  the  jury, 
the  opposing  counsel,  and  even  the  lawyers 
associated  with  him  on  his  own  side  of  the 
case,  was  not  in  great  professional  demand. 

Not  long  before  he  enlisted  with  Forrest,  he 
had  bought  a  farm  out  on  the  Oldbury  pike 
and  had  built  a  home  in  accordance  with  his 
own  ideas ;  there  taking  up  his  residence,  and 
riding  into  town  daily  to  attend  to  his  law 
business  or  crack  jokes  with  his  brethren  of 
the  bar  as  they  loafed  in  their  offices  or  sat 


144  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

under  the  trees  outside.  Almost  any  one  in 
Feme  Run  could  have  told  you  that  Cap'n 
Pow  had  been  governed  in  the  choice  of  a 
home  by  the  fancy  or  the  taste  of  A  Certain 
Lady.  The  Oldbury  pike  was  the  popular 
drive  of  the  people  of  Ferae  Run,  and  when 
A  Certain  Lady,  sitting  behind  Cap'n  Pow's 
three-minute  trotter,  drove  of  a  Sunday  after- 
noon out  that  road  with  Cap'n  Pow,  his  face 
glowing,  his  eyes  dancing,  and  his  beard 
streaming  over  his  shoulder,  she  was  wont,  as 
Cap'n  Pow  frequently  testified  to  his  confiden- 
tial friends,  to  sigh  in  praise  of  the  loveliness 
of  Ostard's  Grove  and  in  exclamation  of  the 
happiness  that  would  be  hers  if  she  had  a  dear 
little  cottage  in  just  such  an  idyllic  sylvan 
nook.  As  it  was  about  this  time  that  Cap'n 
Pow  bought  the  tract  of  land  of  which  Ostard's 
Grove  was  a  part  and  began  building  a  cottage 
in  the  grove,  his  confidential  friends,  who 
embraced  a  large  proportion  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Torrance  County,  were  not  at  a  loss 
to  explain  why  he  had  made  a  bargain  which 
was  generally  considered  a  bad  one. 

For  a  long  time  Cap'n  Pow  lived  alone  in 
the  cottage  which  he  had  built  with  so  much 
care  in  Ostard's  Grove.  No  one  was  able  to 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  145 

say  positively  why  he  did  not  marry ;  but  it 
was  well  understood  that  Cap'n  Pow  had  his 
own  theories  about  ladies,  and  that  one  of 
them  was  that  a  lady's  answer  to  a  proposal  of 
marriage  depended  largely,  if  not  chiefly,  upon 
the  propitiousness  of  time  and  circumstances 
with  which  it  was  made  to  her.  And  there 
were  some  of  Cap'n  Pow's  confidential  friends 
who  had  ample  reason  to  believe  that  Cap'n 
Pow  had  never  yet  determined  in  his  own 
mind,  or  discovered  in  his  experience,  just 
what  time  and  circumstances  were  adequately 
propitious  for  a  favorable  answer. 

Certain  it  was  that  no  lady  shared  Cap'n 
Pow's  cottage  until  he  took  to  live  with  him 
his  widowed  sister,  Mrs.  Rearden,  and  her 
daughter,  Janet.  Mrs.  Rearden,  such  was  the 
prevailing  opinion,  was  not  one  to  bring  to 
his  home  all  those  feminine  graces  and  benig- 
nities without  which  it  was  known  Cap'n  Pow 
held  life  to  be  sadly  incomplete,  for  she  was  a 
woman  of  a  fertile  and  despondent  imagination, 
which  kept  her  in  the  clutches  of  many  and 
deadly  maladies  ;  an  imagination  which  fed 
voraciously  upon  all  advertisements  of  patent 
medicines  in  the  newspapers  and  the  almanacs, 
immediately  revealing  to  her  as  her  own  the 


146  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

harrowing  arrays  of  desperate  symptoms  set 
forth  therein,  and  alarming  her  into  spending 
most  of  her  own  and  much  of  Cap'n  Povv's 
substance  to  provide  herself  with  the  remedies 
for  her  bodily  afflictions  thus  disclosed  to  her 
from  time  to  time  by  her  assiduous  reading. 
But  whatever  trial  Mrs.  Rearden  may  have 
been  to  Cap'n  Pow,  he  found  more  than  com- 
pensation in  the  presence  of  Janet,  a  child 
with  the  soberness  of  mature  womanhood 
upon  her  and  a  quiet  sympathy  in  her  ways 
that  completely  won  the  warm  heart  of  Cap'n 
Pow,  and  represented  in  a  partial  degree  some- 
thing of  what  he  had  missed  and  still  hoped  for 
in  the  home  which  he  had  built  in  Ostard's 
Grove. 

Mrs.  Rearden,  having  one  day  discovered 
from  her  reading  that  she  was  afflicted  with 
both  incipient  angina  pectoris  and  well-ad- 
vanced neurilemmitis,  and  laying  in  supplies 
of  the  advertised  remedies  for  both  maladies, 
having  swallowed  the  nostrums  alternately 
the  same  hour,  discovered  when  too  late  that 
the  medicines  did  not  mix  well,  and  died  be- 
fore a  physician  could  reach  her.  For  Janet, 
then  motherless  as  well  as  fatherless,  Cap'n 
Pow  Halliburton's  affection  became  all  the 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  147 

more  solicitous;  and  when  the  girl  grew  up 
and  Lee  Torrance  began  to  indicate  a  parti- 
ality for  her,  Cap'n  Pow's  anxiety  added  an 
erratic  restlessness  to  the  hand  with  which  he 
thridded  his  beard  as  he  sat  on  the  veranda  in 
the  evenings. 

Lee  was  an  anomaly  among  the  Torrances. 
He  seemed  entirely  unimpressed  by  the  Tor- 
rance traditions,  history,  or  responsibilities  to 
the  future.  Thus  far  his  object  in  life  had 
been  his  own  pleasure,  which  he  took  wherever 
it  was  to  be  found,  but  which  was  frivolous 
rather  than  vicious.  His  father  bore  with  him 
patiently,  for  one  of  James  York  Torrance's 
spirit ;  having,  indeed,  long  since  abandoned 
any  hopes  regarding  the  young  man  except 
that  he  might  in  time  mature  into  a  respect- 
able medium  for  the  transmission  of  the  Tor- 
rance name,  and  that  meanwhile  he  should 
go  to  no  extreme  that  could  bring  dishonor 
to  that  name.  The  boy  had  always  appeared 
oblivious  of  Miss  Juliana  Torrance's  acerbic 
disapprobation  and  martyr-like  resignation, 
while  he  laughed  openly  and  good-humoredly 
at  Clara's  undisguised  contempt.  Victoria, 
though  only  his  half-sister  and  three  years  his 
junior,  was  the  one  member  of  the  household 


148  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

for  whose  good  opinion  he  seemed  to  care,  and 
her  he  held  in  a  combination  of  affection  and 
almost  reverential  admiration  whose  influence 
she  did  not  weaken  by  either  patronizing  or 
upbraiding  him. 

The  distasteful  problem  which  Lee  Torrance 
had  set  Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton  was  finally 
solved  one  evening  when,  Janet  not  being  at 
home,  Lee,  calling,  was  engaged  by  Cap'n  Pow 
on  the  veranda  and  was  requested,  in  as  cour- 
teous words  as  Cap'n  Pow  could  frame,  to  dis- 
continue his  visits  to  Janet,  which,  owing  to 
the  disparity  in  the  social  gradations  of  the  two 
families,  to  say  nothing  of  any  other  reasons, 
must  provoke  undesirable  gossip.  Lee,  red- 
dening, had  bowed  himself  away  with,  for  once, 
all  the  dignity  of  the  Torrance  manner.  "  As 
you  please,  sir,"  was  all  he  had  replied,  not 
deigning  to  discuss  the  subject,  or  to  make 
either  promise  or  protest. 

It  was  about  six  o'clock,  a  week  afterwards, 
when  Outcault  left  the  train  at  Mavistoc,  after 
an  absence  of  several  days  in  Nashville.  In  an 
hour  he  had  got  his  supper  and  his  horse  and 
was  well  on  his  twenty-five  miles  ride  over  the 
Feme  Run  road.  It  was  not  later  than  ten 
that  night  that,  less  than  half  a  mile  from  Cap'n 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  149 

Pow  Halliburton's,  he  saw  walking  rapidly  to- 
ward him  along  the  turnpike  a  man  with  a  gun 
on  his  shoulder.  Before  he  was  near  enough 
for  recognition  the  man  turned  aside  and  began 
climbing  the  fence  of  the  field  in  which  Outcault 
had  shot  the  quail  on  the  day  when  he  had  also 
shot  James  York  Torrance's  pigeon.  The  fence 
was  high,  and  by  the  time  the  man  had  thrown 
his  leg  over  the  top  rail  Outcault  had  ridden 
up  close  enough  to  distinguish  the  features  of 
Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton  in  the  moonlight. 

"  Cap'n  Pow !  "  he  exclaimed  in  astonish- 
ment, pulling  up  his  horse  short.  "  What  is 
the  matter  ?  Where  are  you  going  ? " 

It  was  plain  that  Cap'n  Pow  was  moved  by 
some  strong  excitement.  As  he  poised  him- 
self on  the  fence-top  and  turned  toward  Out- 
cault, Cap'n  Pow's  face  was  strangely  wrought, 
his  eyes  were  preternaturally  brilliant,  and  the 
hand  with  which  he  held  the  gun  trembled  until 
the  sheen  of  the  gun-barrel  quivered  in  the 
moonlight.  When  he  answered  it  was  with 
sharp  vehemence. 

"  To  James  York  Torrance's,"  he  said.  "  Go 
home  and  wait  for  me  there  an  hour.  If  I  do 
not  return  by  that  time  you  may  come  for 
me." 


150  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Outcault  spurred  his  horse  to  the  side  of  the 
fence  and  laid  his  hand  on  Cap'n  Pow's  arm. 
"  What  is  it,  Cap'n  Pow  ?  "  he  asked  anxiously. 
"  What  are  you  about  to  do?  " 

"  To  right  an  infernal  wrong,  sir  !  Do  not 
detain  me.  I  have  no  time  for  talk  now." 

Outcault's  hand  tightened  on  the  man's  arm. 
"  But  can  you  not  tell  me  what  it  is  ? "  he 
asked,  with  gentle  firmness.  "  Surely  I  —  some 
one  beside  yourself  —  ought  to  know." 

"  Janet !  Lee  Torrance  !  They  ran  away  to 
Mavistoc  last  night  to  be  married.  When 
they  got  there  one  of  them  or  both  of  them 
backed  out,  and  there  was  no  marriage.  He 
brought  her  back  before  daylight  this  morn- 
ing, and  they  agreed  that  it  should  be  kept  a 
secret  between  them.  But  Janet  broke  down 
to-night  and  told  me.  I  immediately  went  to 
Feme  Run  and  got  a  marriage-license  and  a 
minister.  They  are  waiting  at  home  now.  I 
am  on  my  way  to  The  Mounds  for  the  groom. 
Go  on  to  the  house  and  wait  for  us." 

Outcault  was  silent  for  a  little  before  reply- 
ing. "  Have  you  thought  this  over  fully  ? "  he 
asked.  "  Are  you  sure  you  are  doing  what  is 
best  ?  Does  Janet  wish  to  marry  him  now  ?  " 

"Janet  shall  marry  him  now!     They  drove 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  151 

to  Mavistoc  in  a  buggy.  They  were  together 
all  night.  I  know  that  there  was  nothing 
wrong.  I  would  kill  the  man  who  would  say 
that  there  was.  But  the  story  would  ruin 
Janet  here,  and  there's  but  one  thing  to  do. 
Janet  agrees  with  me  in  that." 

"  Has  the  story  got  out  ? " 

"  Janet  says  that  they  were  not  recognized 
by  any  one;  that  nobody  else  knew  of  the 
affair  until  she  told  me  of  it.  But  that  makes 
no  difference.  It  may  or  may  not  become 
known;  but  the  marriage  must  take  place 
now.  Let  loose  my  arm." 

Outcault  obeyed.  "  Had  you  not  better  wait 
and  think  it  over,  at  least  until  to-morrow?" 
he  urged,  as  Cap'n  Pow,  with  the  activity  of 
a  much  younger  man,  jumped  down  into  the 
field. 

"  I  am  done  thinking  and  talking  about  it," 
Cap'n  Pow  said  curtly,  and  started  toward  The 
Mounds. 

Outcault  tied  his  horse  to  the  fence,  and 
swinging  over,  soon  caught  up  with  Cap'n 
Pow. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  the  older  man 
asked. 

"  I  think  some  one  ought  to  accompany  you," 


152  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Outcault  replied,  "  if  you  are  determined  on 
this." 

"  I  don't,  sir.  You  will  oblige  me  if  you  will 
return  to  your  horse." 

Outcault  walked  on  for  a  few  steps  in 
silence,  his  eyes  on  the  ground. 

"Would  you  have  them  say  that  I  played 
the  coward,  sir  ? "  Cap'n  Pow  demanded. 
"That  two  men  sought  to  bully  one?  No, 
sir!  I  shall  go  alone.  I  shall  take  no  ad- 
vantage of  him,  and  I  shall  have  it  out  with 
him,  man  to  man." 

"  Cap'n  Pow,"  Outcault  spoke  with  more 
deliberation  than  was  his  habit,  "  I  want  to 
ask  of  you  a  great  favor  —  for  myself." 

"  I  would  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you, 
Andrew.  I  owe  you  a  thousand  times  more 
than  I  can  ever  repay  you.  But  you  must  not 
ask  me  an  impossibility.  You  must  not  ask 
me  to  sacrifice  honor  and  Janet's  good  name 
for  you." 

"  I  don't.  If  you  won't  wait,  if  you  insist 
on  this  thing  to-night,  what  I  ask  is  that  you 
let  me  go  in  your  place." 

Cap'n  Pow  for  a  second  stopped  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  field.  "  You  ?  Go  in  my  place  ? " 
he  said  more  softly.  "  Why,  that  would  be  out 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  153 

of  the  question.  And  what  earthly  good  could 
it  do  ?  " 

"This,"  Outcault  explained  as  they  walked 
on.  "  You  say  you  will  have  it  out  with  Lee, 
man  to  man.  But  you  are  an  old  man  and  he 
is  a  young  one ;  may  you  not  be  yourself  at  a 
disadvantage  —  if  it  comes  to  violence  ?  Be- 
sides, you  know,  Cap'n  Pow,  that  your  temper 
is  high,  and  inflamed  as  it  now  is  against  Lee, 
unfits  you  for  talking  the  matter  over  with 
him.  If  you  go  there  with  that  gun  you  are 
almost  sure  to  do  something  that  may  be  un- 
necessary, and  that  you  will  always  regret." 

"  Mush  and  milk !  I  am  going  there  to 
either  make  him  marry  her  or  to  kill  him." 

"  But  I  suppose  that  your  desire  is  that  he 
shall  marry  her,  while  you  are  far  more  likely 
to  kill  him,  or  be  killed.  Lee  is  pretty  quick 
on  the  trigger  himself." 

Thus  it  went,  Outcault  reasoning  and  plead- 
ing and  Cap'n  Pow  scoffing  and  refusing,  until 
they  reached  The  Mounds,  and,  skirting  the 
high  picket  fence,  came  to  the  gate  at  the  be- 
ginning of  Torrance  Avenue.  Here  Cap'n 
Pow  halted  and,  jamming  the  butt  of  his  gun 
on  the  ground,  said  decisively : 

"  All  right,  Andrew  ;   I  '11  do  it.     I  don't 


154  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

want  to,  but  I  '11  do  it  for  you.  Now,  remem- 
ber :  he  must  come  at  once  to  my  house  and 
marry  Janet,  or  he  must  take  the  conse- 
quences," tapping  the  gun.  "  I  will  give  you 
just  thirty  minutes  to  attend  to  the  business. 
Look  at  your  watch.  We  are  together.  It  is 
now  ten  minutes  after  ten.  I  will  wait  here. 
If  you  are  not  back  at  this  gate  by  ten-forty  I 
will  immediately  come  to  the  house  and  finish 
the  business  myself.  Understand  :  he  marries 
Janet  to-night  or,  by  God,  somebody  dies." 

"  I  understand.  Give  me  the  full  half  hour," 
Outcault  said,  as  he  passed  through  the  gate 
and  walked  rapidly  toward  the  house. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  155 


XIII 

IT  was  a  walk  of  two  hundred  yards,  perhaps, 
and  every  detail  of  it  was  vivid  as  long  as  he 
lived.  As  he  left  Cap'n  Pow  the  guilty  thought 
flashed  over  Outcault  that  if  he  had  remained 
in  Nashville  another  day,  as  he  had  at  one 
time  intended,  he  would  have  been  spared  the 
necessity  of  placing  this  further  barrier  be- 
tween himself  and  Victoria  Torrance.  He 
knew  that  it  should  be  a  contemptible  thought, 
and  yet  at  the  time  he  felt  no  self-contempt  for 
entertaining  it.  The  lid  of  the  night  drew 
down  on  him  oppressively.  Over  the  moon  had 
drifted  a  wisp  of  cloud  through  which  the  light 
sifted  like  a  phosphorescent  vapor.  Under  his 
feet  the  gravel  grated  harshly  and  slipped  as  if 
to  stay  his  steps.  The  iteration  of  a  katydid 
sawed  across  his  ears.  There  was  an  insistent 
mockery  in  the  metallic  quavers  of  the  tree- 
frogs  and  in  the  elfish  torches  of  the  fireflies. 
Around  the  house  came  a  hound  baying  deeply, 
and  a  man's  voice  called  the  dog  back,  as  the 
glow  of  a  cigar-point  was  shifted  on  the  veranda. 


156  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Outcault,  as  he  approached,  saw  that  the 
cigar  was  in  the  hand  of  Lee  Torrance,  who 
had  risen  and  was  waiting  at  the  top  of  the 
steps  to  receive  him. 

"  Mr.  Torrance,"  Outcault  said,  pausing  two 
steps  below.  "  I  was  looking  for  you.  I 
should  like  a  few  words  with  you." 

"  How  are  you,  Mr.  Outcault  ? "  offering  his 
hand  ;  "  I  am  at  your  service.  Will  you  come 
in,  or  would  you  find  it  pleasanter  on  the 
veranda  ?  " 

Outcault  saw  that  the  windows  to  the  left  of 
the  entrance  were  lighted,  but  that  the  veranda 
to  the  right  was  in  darkness.  "  I  presume  we 
shall  be  alone  out  here,"  he  suggested. 

"  Certainly." 

Lee  led  the  way  to  the  darkened  end  of 
the  veranda,  drawing  two  chairs  with  him. 
"  Sit  down,"  he  said  hospitably.  "  Won't  you 
join  me  with  a  cigar  ?  " 

Outcault  thanked  him,  but  declined  both 
invitations.  Stopping  at  the  extreme  end  of 
the  veranda,  he  plunged  into  his  mission. 

"To  come  at  once  to  the  object  of  my 
visit,  Mr.  Torrance  :  I  have  just  left  Captain 
Halliburton  ;  he  thinks  you  have  compromised 
Miss  Rearden  by  your  trip  to  Mavistoc  last 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  157 

night,  and  that  the  indescretion  can  only  be 
repaired  by  marriage." 

Lee  was  leaning  against  a  pillar  of  the 
veranda.  He  did  not  remove  the  cigar  from 
his  mouth,  nor  did  he  make  any  answer. 

"  I  have  come  to  say,  Mr.  Torrance,  that  it 
is  hoped,  upon  reflection,  you  will  take  the 
same  view  of  the  matter." 

Lee  was  still  silent,  but  the  glow  of  his  cigar 
was  waxing  rapidly  in  the  darkness. 

Outcault  went  resolutely  on :  "Of  course 
you  understand  the  sensitiveness  of  public 
sentiment  here  regarding  such  conventionali- 
ties, and  recognize  —  " 

"  Mr.  Outcault !  "  Lee  cut  him  off  sharply, 
throwing  the  cigar  away  and  withdrawing 
from  the  support  of  the  pillar.  "I  do  not 
recognize  your  right  to  discuss  this  question 
with  me.  It  is  a  question  which  lies  entirely 
between  Miss  Rearden  and  myself.  Let  us 
say  no  more  about  it." 

"  You  forget  that  the  world  does  not  consist 
entirely  of  Miss  Rearden  and  yourself,"  Out- 
cault continued.  "There  is  another  point 
which  it  is  right  should  be  brought  to  your 
attention.  You  know  Captain  Halliburton. 
You  know  what  an  irresponsible  madman  he 


158  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

is  when  his  passions  are  aroused.  I  have 
tried  to  induce  him  to  postpone  any  action 
until  he  is  calmer,  but  he  will  not  listen  to 
me.  He  swears  that  you  must  marry  Janet 
to-night,  or  that  your  life  or  his  must  be  for- 
feited. I  tell  you  this  not  as  a  threat  —  I  do 
not  think  you  could  be  intimidated  —  but  that 
you  may  understand  the  actual  conditions  and 
that  you  may  weigh  them  well  before  you 
bring  upon  yourself,  upon  your  family,  upon 
both  families,  the  shock  of  violence,  the  stain 
of  blood." 

Lee  answered  with  incisive  emphasis  that 
could  not  be  misunderstood: 

"  Mr.  Outcault,  I  shall  be  pleased  to  talk  with 
you  upon  any  other  subject.  Upon  this  I  have 
not  another  word  to  say,  and  if  you  say  another 
you  will  force  on  me  the  discourtesy  of  turning 
my  back  upon  a  guest."  He  took  a  step  away 
from  Outcault,  pausing  to  await  his  decision. 

"  Very  well,"  Outcault  replied ;  "  but  you 
compel  me  to  a  still  more  unpleasant  course. 
I  am  determined  to  do  what  I  can  to  prevent 
this  tragedy,  and  I  shall  now  urge  your  father 
to  bring  his  influence  to  bear  upon  you.  Will 
you  show  me  to  him,  or  shall  I  find  my  way 
alone?" 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  159 

Lee  bowed  ceremoniously.  "  I  shall  be 
happy  to  save  you  that  trouble.  Come." 

Outcault  followed,  through  the  hall  and  into 
the  room  whose  illuminated  windows  he  had 
observed  at  the  other  end  of  the  veranda. 

The  scene  as  he  entered  smote  him  anew  with 
the  incongruity  of  his  mission  and  the  thank- 
lessness  of  the  part  he  was  playing.  James 
York  Torrance  was  almost  reclining  in  a  big 
easy-chair,  his  slender  hands  clasping  loosely 
its  arms,  his  thin  face  lifted  placidly,  as  he 
listened  to  Victoria,  who,  sitting  near  the 
table,  the  mellowing  rays  of  the  lamp  soften- 
ing her  charms  of  color  and  contour,  was  read- 
ing aloud. 

Outcault,  just  over  the  threshold,  involunta- 
rily checked  himself,  as  if  to  withdraw ;  Victoria 
looked  up,  her  eyes  calmly  curious,  then  widen- 
ing with  surprise  and  wonder;  while  James 
York  Torrance,  as  yet  unconscious  of  the  inter- 
ruption, still  gazed  contentedly  at  the  ceiling. 

Victoria  rose  with  a  bow  to  Outcault ;  Out- 
cault flushed,  with  an  answering  bow  and  a 
murmur  of  "  Miss  Torrance ; "  and  James 
York  Torrance  stirred,  looking  uncertainly 
toward  Outcault  and  Lee. 

"Father,"  Lee  said,  "this  is  Mr.  Outcault 


160  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

—  Mr.  Andrew  Outcault  —  who  wishes  to  see 
you  on  an  affair  of  importance." 

The  old  gentleman,  rising,  and  directing 
a  puzzled  glance  of  inquiry  at  Lee,  turned  to 
Outcault  and  saluted  him  with  unaffected 
grace. 

"  Pray  be  seated,  Mr.  Outcault,"  he  said, 
waving  the  uncomfortable  young  man  to  a 
chair  near  the  table  which  divided  father  and 
daughter. 

Outcault  placed  his  hand  on  the  back  of  the 
chair  indicated,  but  did  not  sit  down.  The 
others,  including  Victoria,  were  still  standing, 
and  Victoria  started  quietly  to  the  door,  as  if 
to  withdraw.  Lee  promptly  called  her  back. 

"  I  wish  you  to  remain,  Victoria,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  a  family  matter  that  Mr.  Outcault  pro- 
poses to  speak  about,  and  I  want  you  to  get 
the  straight  of  it." 

Victoria  paused,  and  Outcault  flashed  a  pro- 
testing look  at  Lee.  "  Do  you  think  this 
advisable?  " 

"  I  insist  upon  it,"  Lee  replied. 

Outcault  bowed  acquiescence,  and,  as  Vic- 
toria returned  to  her  seat,  he  took  the  chair 
which  James  York  Torrance,  resuming  his  own 
chair,  again  waved  to  him. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  161 

"  Would  it  not  be  preferable,  Mr.  Torrance," 
Outcault  said  to  Lee,  "  that  you  should  explain 
the  cause  of  my  visit?  The  facts  are  more 
accurately  within  your  knowledge." 

Lee  hesitated  a  moment,  while  his  father 
looked  from  one  young  man  to  the  other,  and 
Victoria's  eyes,  fixed  upon  her  brother,  dark- 
ened with  a  vague  foreboding. 

"Very  well,"  he  assented,  with  emphasis. 
"  If  I  make  any  errors,  please  correct  me." 

"  I  shall  accept  your  narrative  of  the  facts," 
Outcault  declared. 

Lee  bowed  and  turned  to  his  father.  "  Mr. 
Outcault  comes  as  the  representative  of  Captain 
Halliburton,"  he  began,  with  unusually  distinct 
enunciation.  "  Captain  Halliburton  is  the 
uncle  and,  I  believe,  the  guardian  of  Miss  Janet 
Rearden.  For  some  time  I  have  been  in  love 
with  Miss  Rearden." 

James  York  Torrance  inclined  his  body  sud- 
denly a  little  farther  forward,  his  lips  parted 
and  then  closed  tightly,  but  he  said  nothing 
and  kept  his  eyes  riveted  on  his  son. 

"  Miss  Rearden,"  Lee  went  on  firmly,  "  does 
me  the  honor  to  say  that  my  suit  is  not  dis- 
pleasing to  her.  It  does  not  meet  the  approval, 
however,  of  Captain  Halliburton,  who  has  re- 


1 62  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

quested,  I  may  say  ordered,  me  to  discontinue 
my  attentions  to  his  niece.  Last  night  I  sought 
Miss  Rearden  and  persuaded  her  to  leave  home 
for  the  purpose  of  marrying  me  at  once,  without 
the  knowledge  of  Captain  Halliburton.  We 
drove  to  Mavistoc,  reaching  there  shortly  after 
twelve  o'clock.  The  town  was  asleep,  the 
court-house  closed.  We  had  started  to  drive 
to  the  residence  of  the  county  clerk,  to  arouse 
him  and  secure  the  license,  when  Miss  Rearden, 
who  for  some  minutes  had  shown  an  inclination 
to  reconsider  her  consent  to  the  elopement, 
became  hysterical  and  insisted  that  I  should 
turn  around  and  start  back  home.  This  angered 
me,  and,  though  I  complied  with  her  demands, 
I  reproached  her  with  such  feeling  that  she 
seemed  to  repent  her  change  of  mind  and  again 
consented  to  the  marriage.  But  I  did  not  care 
to  go  on  with  it  then,  under  such  conditions. 
I  told  her  that  I  would  take  her  back  to  Captain 
Halliburton's  and  that  she  should  have  time  to 
think  over  the  matter  calmly  and  reach  a  final 
decision.  We  got  to  Captain  Halliburton's 
about  four  o'clock  this  morning,  without,  so  far 
as  I  was  aware,  any  one  besides  ourselves 
knowing  of  our  trip.  The  subsequent  develop- 
ments Mr.  Outcault  can  explain  to  you  better 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  163 

than  I  can.  I  have  just  heard  of  them  through 
him." 

Lee  ceased  speaking  and,  turning  his  eyes 
from  those  of  his  father,  which  seemed  to  burn 
deeper  and  deeper  into  their  sockets,  looked 
sullenly  at  nothing.  Victoria  made  a  sudden 
motion  as  if  to  rise  and  go  to  her  brother,  but 
sank  back  in  her  chair  and  watched  him  anx- 
iously. James  York  Torrance  squared  himself 
upon  Outcault  and  waited,  silent  and,  but  for 
the  slight  tremor  of  the  hand  clutching  the  arm 
of  his  chair,  motionless. 

There  was  a  perceptible  tautening  of  the 
muscles  in  Outcault's  cheeks  as  he  set  his  jaws 
before  beginning.  "  I  have  told  Mr.  Torrance," 
he  said,  "  that  last  night's  events,  in  Captain 
Halliburton's  opinion,  make  an  immediate 
marriage  imperative.  Mr.  Torrance  declines 
to  consider  Captain  Halliburton's  demand.  I 
have  sought  this  interview  with  you,  sir,  in 
order  that  I  might  appeal  to  you  to  advise  your 
son  otherwise."  Then  he  went  on  to  urge  the 
practical  reasons  why  Lee  should  not  refuse 
the  demand  of  Cap'n  Pow,  ignoring  all  moral 
cast  of  the  question  and  discussing  it  alone 
from  the  attitude  of  expediency.  "  As  I  under- 
stand," he  was  saying,  "  Mr.  Torrance  wishes 


1 64  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

to  marry  Miss  Rearden,  but  he  resents  all 
appearance  of  dictation  to  that  end.  But  can 
he  not,  ought  he  not,  put  aside  that  phase  of 
the  matter  in  view  of  the  peculiar  conditions 
that  now  exist  —  in  view  of  the  rashness  and 
unreasonableness  of  Captain  Halliburton  and 
of  the  sad  consequences  to  both  families  that 
may  follow  a  collision  between  the  passion  of 
one  side  and  the  pride  of  the  oth  —  " 

"  Stop,  Mr.  Outcault !  " 

The  tint  of  the  apple-blossoms  which  Out- 
cault so  well  remembered  was  now  pink  against 
the  ashes  of  the  skin  and  the  snow  of  the  hair. 
The  old  gentleman  raised  one  hand  in  warning, 
palm  outward,  the  fingers  curving  as  with 
rheumatism  and  closing  tightly  as  he  brought 
the  fist  down  with  a  blow  on  the  chair-arm. 
"  I  cannot  hear  any  more,  sir.  Whom  and  when 
my  son  shall  marry  are  matters  for  his  own 
decision.  The  point,  sir,  upon  which  you  ask 
me  to  intervene  seems  to  be  that  my  son  in 
making  his  own  decision  declines  to  be  moved 
by  threats  of  force.  I  cannot  but  applaud, 
rather  than-attempt  to  dissuade,  him.  I  have 
never  heard  of  an  instance  in  which  a  Torrance 
did  not  act  for  himself  in  such  affairs,  and  I 
thank  God  that  the  Torrance  manhood  has  not 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  165 

so  degenerated  through  any  son  of  mine.  I 
must  beg  you,  sir,  upon  this  subject,  to  consider 
our  interview  at  an  end." 

He  stood  up,  very  straight  except  for  a  slight 
inclination  forward  from  the  hips,  which  was 
plainly  a  bow  of  dismissal. 

Outcault,  rising,  drew  his  watch  and  saw 
that  he  yet  had  about  ten  minutes  of  grace 
from  Cap'n  Pow.  When  he  looked  up  from 
his  watch  Victoria  Torrance  was  standing  by 
the  side  of  her  father,  her  hand  on  his  sleeve, 
her  eyes  searching  his  face,  her  lips  opening  in 
quick,  broken  words. 

"  Oh,  father !  "  she  was  saying,  "  wait !  Are 
you  sure —  might  it  not  be  possible  —  " 

The  deep  eyes  of  the  old  man  looked  down 
on  her  as  if  from  a  dream,  conscious  now  for 
the  first  time  of  her  presence.  A  tender  smile 
wavered  on  his  stony  lips,  to  leave  them  in  a 
moment  stonier  than  before. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  Victoria?" 
he  asked.  "  You  must  not  concern  yourself 
in  this  affair.  There  is  no  more  to  be  said 
about  it." 

She  looked  intently,  steadily  up  at  him ;  then 
she  shrank  back,  and  turning  away,  crossed 
swiftly  to  Lee,  who  had  been  standing,  with 


1 66  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

the  gleam  of  a  smile  in  his  eyes  after  his  father 
had  risen  so  abruptly,  but  who  was  now  watch- 
ing Victoria  with  wonder  and  with  clouding 
countenance. 

Victoria  ran  up  to  him  and  stopped,  her 
throat  swelling,  her  face  mantling  with  crowd- 
ing and  conflicting  impulses. 

"  Lee  ! "  she  cried,  "  oh,  Lee ! "  clasping  one 
hand  quickly  over  the  other  and  then  halting 
as  if  doubtful  what  she  would  say,  or  as  if 
impotent  to  say  it. 

"  Why,  Victoria,"  Lee  exclaimed,  "  what  is 
the  matter?" 

She  seemed  to  gain  control  of  herself  sud- 
denly and  completely. 

"  Lee,"  she  spoke,  in  the  rich  voice  which 
Outcault  had  heard  before,  but  which  was  now 
charged  with  a  majesty  of  authority  and  an 
undertone  of  appeal  that  thrilled  him  with 
their  new  power  and  sweetness,  "  let  me  ask 
you  some  things,  dear." 

Lee  always  seemed  another  man  when  talk- 
ing to  Victoria.  The  stubborn  lines  of  his 
features  softened  as  he  looked  at  her  now. 

"  Of  course,  Victoria,"  he  answered  ;  "  ask 
me  anything." 

"  Lee,  you  say  you  love  Janet  ?  " 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  167 

"  I  do,  Victoria." 

"  And  that  you  wish  to  marry  her  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  that  must  be  left  to  her  and  to 
me.  I  cannot  be  bullied." 

"We  all  know  that,  Lee;  but  that  is  not 
the  real  question  now." 

James  York  Torrance  stood  eying  the  two 
in  amazement  and  growing  impatience. 

"  Victoria ! "  he  expostulated,  in  a  stronger 
voice  than  he  had  yet  employed.  "  What  are 
you  thinking  of,  child  ?  Come  with  me." 

It  was  as  if  Victoria  spoke  to  him  as  the 
child.  "  Yes,  father,"  she  replied  with  a  sooth- 
ing patience  ;  "  in  a  moment." 

Then  she  turned  again  to  her  brother.  "  Do 
not  think  of  yourself  now,  Lee,"  she  urged. 
"  Think  of  all  of  us.  Think  of  the  crime  and 
sorrow  that  may  follow  your  refusal  now. 
Think  of  me,  Lee ;  and,  above  all,  think  of 
Janet." 

"  Of  you  !  Of  Janet !  Good  Lord,  Victoria, 
you  surely  don't  ask  me  to  give  in  to  this 
outrageous  demand  of  Captain  Halliburton's  ?  " 

"It  is  best,  Lee.  Captain  Halliburton  is 
hot-headed  and  hasty,  but  he  is  influenced  by 
his  knowledge  of  public  opinion  in  such  things, 
and  he  is  acting  for  Janet's  interest  among 


1 68  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

those  who  are  her  world.  In  that  sense  he  is 
right,  Lee ;  and  Janet  can  never  forget  the 
wound  you  give  her  if  your  first  consideration 
is  not  her  good  name,  but  your  own  pride. 
You  do  not  love  her  truly,  and  you  should 
never  marry  her  at  all,  if  you  cannot  make 
such  a  sacrifice  for  her." 

James  York  Torrance,  his  lips  twitching 
and  little  flecks  of  froth  at  the  corners  of  his 
mouth,  took  an  impetuous  step  forward,  with 
hand  raised  shoulder-high  in  enforcement  of 
his  words. 

"  What  nonsense  is  all  this  ? "  he  cried,  his 
voice  breaking  into  a  falsetto  in  its  unwonted 
ascent.  "  Victoria,  I  am  astounded.  Lee,  con- 
duct your  sister  at  once  from  the  room.  Mr. 
Outcault,"  wheeling  upon  him,  "  go  to  Captain 
Halliburton  and  tell  him,  with  the  compliments 
of  Mr.  Lee  Torrance,  that  it  is  impossible  to 
hold  any  communication  with  him  on  the  sub- 
ject of  his  proposition  ;  and  tell  him,  with  the 
compliments  of  Mr.  James  York  Torrance,  that 
as  long  as  there  is  a  drop  of  Torrance  blood 
at  The  Mounds,  such  insolence  as  his  will  be 
resented  and  the  honor  of  the  family  will  be 
at  all  times  properly  defended." 

Outcault,  upon  whom  nothing  had  been  lost, 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  169 

saw  the  influence  of  Victoria  over  her  brother, 
and  saw  that  he  could  still  count  on  that  influ- 
ence. He  turned  from  the  father  to  the  son 
and  addressed  him. 

"  May  I  not  take  Mr.  Lee  Torrance's  answer 
from  his  own  lips  ? "  Outcault  said. 

"Yes,"  Victoria  responded,  catching  Lee's 
hand. 

"Victoria  Torrance!  My  daughter!"  the 
old  man's  words  were  hardly  above  a  husky 
whisper,  his  chin  quivering,  his  face  blacken- 
ing. "  I  command  you  to  remember  that  / 
have  given  Captain  Halliburton  his  answer !  " 

"  Yes,  father,"  Victoria  replied  gently. 

Then  she  slipped  her  arm  over  Lee's  shoul- 
der and  lifted  her  pleading  face  and  wet  eyes 
to  his.  "  Give  him  your  answer,  Lee,"  she 
implored.  "  And  be  sure,  dear,  for  my  sake, 
for  Janet's  sake,  give  him  the  answer  of  a 
man." 

There  was  an  inarticulate  sound  from  the 
hoarse  throat  of  James  York  Torrance,  but 
no  one  was  looking  toward  him  now.  Lee's 
chest  heaved  once  ;  he  dashed  his  hand  across 
his  eyes,  which  filled  suddenly  with  tears.  He 
stooped  abruptly  and  kissed  the  brow  of  his 
sister. 


1 70  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  I  will  be  the  man  you  want  me  to  be, 
Victoria,"  he  cried.  "  God  knows  you  are  the 
only  one  in  this  house  who  ever  believed  me 
a  man,  or  treated  me  as  one.  Mr.  Outcault, 
please  inform  Captain  Halliburton  that  I  assent 
to  his  arrangements,  and  that  I  shall  follow 
you  at  once." 

Victoria,  suppressing  a  sob,  threw  her  arms 
around  him.  "  I  am  proud  of  you,  Lee ! "  she 
murmured. 

Then  she  sprang  toward  Mr.  Torrance,  who 
with  uncertain  step,  weakly  steadied  by  a 
hand-grasp  of  a  chair,  was  making  his  way  to 
the  door,  his  head  thrown  back  and  his  eyes 
vacant.  "  Oh,  father ! "  she  said  as  a  mother 
might  speak  to  the  child  she  had  hurt, "  do  not 
look  so.  Come,"  taking  his  arm  in  both  her 
hands,  as  was  her  habit,  "  and  let  me  explain ; 
let  me  — " 

He  shook  her  off;  then  paused  for  an  in- 
stant in  the  doorway.  "  Never  call  me  father 
again,"  he  ordered.  "  Both  of  you  have  dis- 
honored your  name.  There  is  nothing  be- 
tween either  of  you  and  me  in  the  future." 

He  turned  his  back  on  them  and  walked 
slowly  across  the  hall.  Victoria,  gazing  after 
him,  was  speechless  and  white  with  an  agony 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  171 

that  had  come  to  her  with  the  unexpectedness 
of  a  dagger-thrust.  As  he  disappeared  in  the 
opposite  room  she  threw  her  hand  out  falter- 
ingly  for  support,  and  with  a  moan  was  caught 
in  Lee's  arms.  Outcault,  grinding  under  his 
breath  an  outcry  against  the  very  name  of 
James  York  Torrance,  was  already  out  of  the 
house,  on  his  way  to  Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton. 


172  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XIV 

LEE  led  Victoria  to  the  open  hall  doors,  where 
the  breeze  was  stirring.  "  Are  you  ill  ?  "  he 
asked  anxiously. 

"  No  ;  I  was  a  little  dizzy  for  a  second,  but 
I  am  over  it  now.  Oh,  Lee,  I  must  go  to 
father !  " 

"And  I  shall  be  here,  or  in  my  room,  for  ten 
minutes  yet,  if  you  should  want  me." 

She  pressed  his  hand,  and  then  hurried 
back  through  the  hall,  through  the  room  in 
which  James  York  Torrance  had  disappeared, 
through  the  next,  into  the  back  hall,  and  up 
the  stairs  there,  until,  when  she  reached  his 
own  room  she  was  panting  and  running. 

A  light  shone  through  the  transom  ;  she 
turned  the  knob ;  the  door  was  locked. 

"Father!  Oh,  father,  please  let  me  in!" 
Her  words  were  tense  with  indefinite  alarm. 

The  reply  came,  cold  and  curt.  She  had 
never  heard  her  father  speak  to  her  in  that 
way.  "  I  am  busy,"  he  said ;  "  I  cannot  be 
disturbed." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  173 

She  stood  motionless  and  blanched  for  more 
than  a  minute.  Then  she  shrank  away,  along 
the  upper  hall,  as  if  she  knew  not  whither. 
She  saw  Lee  coming  out  of  his  room,  and 
stopped  as  one  half  dreaming. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said,  "  are  you  going  ? " 

"  Yes.  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you 
first?" 

She  spoke  more  like  herself.  "  Wait  down- 
stairs for  me  a  moment." 

When  she  joined  him  she  had  on  a  hat  and  a 
light  wrap. 

"Why,  where  are  you  going,  Victoria?"  he 
asked  in  surprise. 

"  With  you." 

"  With  me  ?     Not  —  not  to  —  " 

"  To  your  wedding.  Did  you  think  I  should 
not  be  at  your  wedding  ? "  with  a  little  smile. 

He  blushed  deeply,  his  sober  face  then  light- 
ing in  a  pleased,  boyish  laugh.  "  You  are  a 
trump,  Victoria !  You  always  were  !  But  wait 
until  I  can  hitch  up  something  to  drive  you 
over  in." 

"  No,  no !  "  she  objected.  "  I  'd  rather  walk. 
It  is  not  far  and  the  night  is  so  beautiful.  Be- 
sides, I  want  to  talk." 

They  went   arm   and   arm   down   Torrance 


174  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Avenue,  and  then  through  the  woodland  lane 
to  the  Oldbury  pike,  and  on  to  Cap'n  Pow's,  a 
walk  of  perhaps  twenty  minutes. 

Outcault  met  them  at  Cap'n  Pow's  gate. 

"  Mr.  Torrance,"  he  said,  "  it  occurred  to 
me,  after  I  left  you,  that  since  you  have  shown 
your  willingness  to  defer  to  Captain  Hallibur- 
ton's  wishes  regarding  this  marriage  there  is 
no  reason  why,  if  you  like,  the  ceremony  shall 
not  be  postponed  for  a  few  days  and  be  ob- 
served in  a  more  formal  and  public  manner. 
If  it  is  your  preference,  Captain  Halliburton 
shall  consent  to  this,  sir." 

"  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Outcault,"  Lee  answered, 
without  the  least  constraint ;  "  but  it  is  really 
my  preference  now  that  it  shall  go  on  to-night, 
just  as  Captain  Halliburton  has  planned." 

It  was  a  very  simple  wedding,  and  a  very 
singular  wedding  for  a  Torrance.  But  the 
groom  seemed  to  see  nothing  of  it  except  the 
bride ;  and  as  Victoria  watched  his  eager  face, 
so  much  younger  than  his  years,  she  felt  that 
for  the  time,  at  least,  he  was  happy. 

There  were  a  few  minutes  after  the  cere- 
mony when  Janet,  ever  afterward  worshipful 
of  Victoria,  was  in  Victoria's  arms,  when  little 
was  said  between  them,  but  that  little  for  life, 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  175 

and  not  to  be  wasted  upon  masculine  ears. 
Then  it  was  that  Cap'n  Pow  was  stamping 
about  on  the  veranda,  sadly  mutilating  his 
beard  and  his  mother-tongue  in  his  torrential 
efforts  to  apologize  to  Lee  for  any  injustice 
to  him  that  Cap'n  Pow's  action  might  have 
implied.  Outcault,  whom  everybody  had  for- 
gotten, appeared  when  Victoria  came  out,  to 
return  to  The  Mounds. 

"Are  you  going,  Victoria?"  Lee  asked. 
"  Wait  until  I  speak  to  Janet  and  —  but  per- 
haps Mr.  Outcault  will  be  good  enough  to  see 
you  home  ? " 

"  I  was  just  about  to  request  that  privilege," 
Outcault  avowed. 

Victoria  said  good-night  and  walked  away 
with  Outcault.  Neither  spoke  until  they 
reached  the  gate,  between  which  and  the  house 
there  was  a  stretch  of  fifty  yards  of  trees  and 
shrubbery.  Victoria  having  passed  through 
the  gate  which  Outcault  held  open  for  her, 
paused  and  said,  as  one  who  knew  her  mind : 

"  Mr.  Outcault,  it  will  not  be  necessary  for 
you  to  accompany  me.  The  walk  is  short  and 
the  night  almost  like  day." 

"  Yes  —  but  —  indeed,  it  will  not  be  the 
least  trouble,  and  —  " 


176  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  I  prefer  to  go  alone." 

There  was  no  mistaking  that.  She  turned 
to  leave,  and  Outcault  did  not  speak  again 
until  he  had  closed  the  gate  deliberately  be- 
hind them. 

"  One  moment,  Miss  Torrance,"  he  called. 
"  I  have  ordered  the  rockaway,  and  it  will  be 
ready  in  a  few  seconds." 

She  stopped  again,  but  her  tone  was  no  less 
positive.  "  Thank  you,  but  I  shall  not  need  it." 

"  Old  Jasper  will  drive  you  over.  You  shall 
be  alone,"  he  assured  her,  without  restraining 
a  slight  smile. 

"You  are  very  kind,"  uncompromisingly; 
"  but  I  shall  not  wait." 

She  started  on  again ;  but  Outcault  started, 
too. 

"  I  shall  not  permit  this,  Miss  Torrance,"  he 
declared,  in  a  stronger  voice.  "  This  is  Satur- 
day night,  and  you  may  meet  drunken  rowdies 
from  town  at  any  moment.  If  you  will  not 
wait  for  the  rockaway,  I  shall  follow  you." 

She  halted  again  abruptly.  "Very  well," 
she  said,  "  I  will  wait." 

"It  will  not  be  long.  I  hear  it  coming 
now." 

She  made  no  reply,  but  stood,  adjusting  the 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  177 

wrap  about  her  throat,  without  looking  at 
him. 

He  was  silent,  also,  until  the  rockaway  had 
almost  reached  them. 

"  It  is  immaterial,  doubtless  displeasing,  to 
you,"  he  then  said,  "but  I  please  myself  in 
recalling,  Miss  Torrance,  that  your  conduct 
to-night  was  beautiful  and  noble." 

She  did  not  answer.  There  was  little  oppor- 
tunity to  do  so,  if  she  meant  to,  before  the 
rockaway  came  up.  Outcault  helped  her  in. 

"Drive  Miss  Torrance  to  The  Mounds," 
he  ordered  Jasper.  Then  he  lifted  his  hat 
silently  to  the  girl 

He  could  see  that  she  bent  her  head  a  little. 
"Good-night,  Mr.  Outcault,"  he  heard  as  the 
rockaway  moved  off.  But  he  could  not  tell 
whether  there  was,  in  the  way  she  said  it,  the 
least  indication  of  any  unbending. 


12 


178  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XV 

VICTORIA,  on  reaching  home,  went  immediately 
to  her  father's  door  again. 

The  light  was  still  shining  through  the  open 
transom,  and  through  that  also  she  could  hear 
the  ticking  of  the  clock  and  the  scratching  of 
a  pen. 

She  raised  her  hand  to  knock,  but  her  heart 
failed  her,  and  she  withdrew  quietly  and  went 
to  her  own  room. 

It  was  hours  before  she  could  sleep;  and 
when  she  awoke  next  day  it  was  long  after 
her  usual  breakfast  time.  Before  she  had 
finished  dressing  Miss  Juliana  came  in.  Miss 
Juliana  never  did  that  except  on  rare  and,  in 
her  opinion,  important  occasions.  Her  sub- 
dued but  palpable  excitement  told  Victoria  at 
once  that  her  cousin  regarded  this  as  an 
important  occasion. 

It  was  more  important  than  Victoria  had 
suspected.  Her  father  had  left  that  morning 
on  a  long  journey.  It  was  something  unusual 
for  him  to  pass  a  night  away  from  home.  He 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  179 

seldom  went  as  far  as  Mavistoc,  and  only  once 
since  the  war  had  he  gone  as  far  as  Nashville. 
But  now  he  had  set  out  for  Memphis,  in  the 
extreme  western  part  of  the  State,  and  his 
absence  would  be  not  only  for  days,  but  in- 
definite, as  well  as  Miss  Juliana  could  tell. 
He  had  even  taken  Bev  with  him ;  and  he  had 
not  done  such  a  thing  as  that  since  he  had 
made  his  memorable  visit  to  Virginia,  away 
back  in  the  fifties. 

Victoria  was  far  more  deeply  affected  by  this 
news  than  she  allowed  her  cousin  to  see.  Her 
father,  she  learned  by  questioning  Miss  Juliana, 
had  left  early  and  would  permit  Miss  Juliana 
to  awaken  only  Clara  to  bid  him  good-bye. 
He  had  refused  peremptorily  to  let  Victoria  be 
called,  and  as  for  Lee,  his  name  had  not  been 
mentioned.  Besides,  Lee,  Miss  Juliana  ob- 
served with  a  contemptuous  little  fling  of  her 
head,  had  slept  away  from  home  again.  Where- 
upon Victoria  told  Miss  Juliana  of  Lee's  mar- 
riage, sending  her  to  bed  for  the  rest  of  the 
day,  horrified  not  only  at  the  informality  of 
the  ceremony,  but  that  a  Torrance  should  wed 
a  Rearden  at  all. 

Victoria,  restless,  impatient,  fearing  she 
knew  not  what,  was  at  the  post-office  on  the 


180  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

distribution  of  every  mail.  On  the  third  day 
after  her  father's  departure  a  letter  from  him 
came  for  Miss  Juliana.  It  was  very  brief, 
simply  notifying  her  of  his  arrival  at  Memphis 
and  promising  to  inform  her  of  his  future  move- 
ments. About  a  week  later  Victoria's  visits  to 
the  post-office  were  rewarded  with  two  other 
letters  in  his  handwriting,  one  addressed  to 
her  and  the  other  to  Miss  Juliana. 

She  hurried  away,  her  first  impulse  being  to 
read  her  letter  as  she  drove  home.  But  now 
that  she  had  that  which  she  had  awaited  so 
anxiously  she  postponed  even  opening  it.  She 
sat  bolt  upright  as  she  sped  out  Torrance 
Avenue,  her  eyes  fixed  ahead  and  not  once 
conscious  of  the  people  she  met,  among  whom 
was  Andrew  Outcault,  who  had  not  seen  her 
since  the  night  of  the  wedding. 

Reaching  home,  Victoria  sought  Miss  Juliana, 
and  giving  her  the  letter  addressed  to  her, 
went  to  the  window  and  stood  looking  out 
while  Miss  Juliana  was  finding  and  adjusting 
her  spectacles. 

"  Come  here,  Victoria,"  Miss  Juliana  finally 
called,  "  and  read  this  to  me.  I  never  could 
read  James  York's  writing  well,  and  he  seems 
to  have  got  into  a  country  where  there  is  no 
ink  fit  to  write  with," 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  181 

Victoria  went  up  to  Miss  Juliana  and  taking 
the  letter,  again  turned  to  the  window,  reading 
aloud : 

LORCH,  TENN.,  September  7. 

DEAR  JULIANA  :  —  I  have  occupied  my  time,  since 
I  wrote  you  from  Memphis,  in  looking  over  the  coun- 
try, it  being  my  purpose  to  lease  a  farm  in  this  re- 
gion, where  it  is  my  expectation  to  reside  in  future. 
I  think  I  have  about  determined  upon  the  selection 
of  a  place  near  this  village,  and  it  is  probable  that  I 
shall  close  the  contract  in  a  day  or  two.  As  you 
may  be  aware,  the  soil  here  is  very  fertile,  being  richly 
adapted  to  the  culture  of  cotton,  the  only  species  of 
agriculture  which  I  feel  qualified  to  pursue.  It  is 
far  superior  to  our  Middle  Tennessee  lands  for  the 
production  of  this  staple,  and  I  am  sanguine  that  here 
I  may  ultimately  be  successful  in  repairing  somewhat 
my  fortunes.  Bev,  upon  whom  I  have  always  relied 
so  greatly,  will  remain  with  me,  and  I  count  much 
upon  his  experience,  efficiency,  and  fidelity. 

It  will  not  be  necessary  for  me  to  return  to  The 
Mounds.  The  crop  there  is  now  virtually  made,  and 
I  have  already  satisfactory  arrangements  in  view  for 
disposing  of  it  in  the  field. 

I  assume  that  you  will  wish  to  remain  on  at  The 
Mounds  on  the  same  conditions  as  heretofore,  and  I 
am  sure  that  it  will  be  for  the  good  of  the  children 
that  you  should  do  so.  Under  no  circumstances  are 


1 82  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

you,  or  any  of  the  family,  to  follow  me  here,  until 
notified  by  me  of  my  readiness  to  receive  you. 

I  shall  write  you  more  fully  of  my  plans  shortly, 
and  send  you  a  list  of  my  personal  effects  which  I 
shall  request  you  to  forward  to  me. 

With  assurances  to  you  of  the  continuance,  under 
Providence,  of  the  health  which  I  enjoyed  when  I 
last  saw  you,  and  with  earnest  wishes  for  your  own 
bodily  welfare,  I  am, 

Affectionately  yours, 

JAMES  YORK  TORRANCE. 
To  Miss  JULIANA  FORDYCE  TORRANCE, 
"  The  Mounds." 

Victoria,  deaf  to  her  cousin's  exclamations  of 
astonishment  and  sighs  of  pity  for  "  poor  James 
York,"  dropped  the  letter  in  Miss  Juliana's  lap 
and  walked  from  the  room.  Behind  her  own 
closed  door  she  took  out  her  letter,  and,  kissing 
it  passionately,  tore  it  open. 

LORCH,  TENN.,  September  7. 

VICTORIA  :  —  In  leaving  The  Mounds  permanently, 
the  proper  safe-guarding  of  your  interests  demands 
that  I  resign  the  trusteeship  of  your  estate,  in  order 
that  it  may  be  administered  by  some  one  who  can 
give  it  the  attention  of  his  personal  presence.  I 
shall  at  an  early  day  communicate  with  my  attorneys 
at  Feme  Run,  with  this  end  in  view.  The  court  will 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  1 83 

appoint  another  trustee,  a  step  which  I  am  confident 
will  be  signally  to  your  advantage,  as  at  best  I  am  but 
an  indifferent  business  man,  and  any  successor  can 
hardly  fail  to  prove  for  your  advantage.  In  any  event, 
the  trust  will  continue  for  only  a  year  longer,  as  at 
the  age  of  twenty-five,  under  the  provisions  of  your 
mother's  will,  you  are  to  come  into  the  possession  of 
your  property  absolutely. 

Your  Cousin  Juliana  will,  I  presume,  desire  to  con- 
tinue living  at  The  Mounds  as  now,  and  her  income 
is  ample  to  permit  her  to  maintain  her  existing  rela- 
tions to  the  household  as  long  as  it  is  agreeable  to 
yourself  and  her  that  she  should  do  so. 

I  hope  that,  for  the  present  at  least,  Clara  may  also 
find  a  home  at  The  Mounds.  It  is  my  intention  to 
make  her  a  regular  allowance,  sufficient  to  prevent 
her  being  in  any  degree  a  burden  upon  any  one. 

As  soon  as  the  new  trustee  is  appointed  I  will  make 
a  final  settlement  with  him  of  all  accounts  appertain- 
ing to  your  estate,  including  the  liquidation  of  the 
balance  due  from  myself  for  this  year's  rent  of  The 
Mounds. 

All  affairs  between  us  can  be  satisfactorily  wound 
up,  on  the  installation  of  the  new  trustee,  without  the 
necessity,  or  the  advisability,  of  any  further  personal 
interview  whatsoever  between  you  and  myself. 

JAMES  YORK  TORRANCE. 

To  Miss  VICTORIA  TORRANCE, 
"The  Mounds." 


1 84  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Victoria  sat  long,  staring  vacantly  at  the 
closely  written  pages  that  had  fallen  to  her  lap. 
At  last  her  dry  eyes  filled,  and  sobs  shook  her 
as  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands.  But  she 
quickly  rebelled  against  this  gust  of  tears,  and 
sitting  erect  again,  carefully  read  the  letter  a 
second  time.  Then,  rising,  she  went  out  and 
issued  an  order  to  a  stable  boy;  after  which, 
going  to  Miss  Juliana,  she  amazed  that  lady  by 
the  announcement : 

"  Cousin  Juliana,  I  am  going  to  start  at  once 
for  that  place,  Lorch." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  185 


XVI 

was  on  her  way  to  Mavistoc  in  an  hour, 
notwithstanding  Miss  Juliana's  shocked  sense 
of  propriety,  her  wounded  family  dignity,  her 
fluttering  fears,  her  awed  protests  against  dis- 
obeying James  York's  express  injunctions,  and 
her  faint-hearted  threats,  for  appearance's  sake 
at  least,  to  accompany  Victoria  to  Lorch. 

By  repeatedly  urging  her  driver  to  a  faster 
speed  than  the  customary  jog  of  the  family  span 
Victoria  reached  Mavistoc  in  time  to  take  the 
night  train  for  Nashville.  Next  day  she  had 
left  behind  her  the  rolling  beauty  of  Middle 
Tennessee  and  was  steaming  through  the  level 
fields,  the  big  forests,  and  the  riotous  brake 
that  marked  her  approach  to  the  great  river 
of  the  continent.  She  did  not  leave  the  train 
at  the  railroad  junction  where  it  was  neces- 
sary to  change  cars  for  Lorch,  having  learned 
that  she  would  thus  reach  the  little  town  at 
midnight,  and  believing  that  there  would  be 
small  chance  of  finding  her  father  until  morn- 
ing. She  therefore  decided  to  go  on  to  Mem" 


1 86  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

phis,  where  she  spent  the  night  in  a  comfortable 
hotel,  returning  to  the  junction  by  the  early 
train,  and  reaching  Lorch  by  noon. 

It  was  a  desolate-looking  village  in  the  mud. 
There  were  narrow  sidewalks  of  plank  on  the 
main  thoroughfare,  along  which  were  scattered 
the  houses,  principally  one-story  frame  cot- 
tages, many  of  which  had  never  been  painted, 
in  dingy  contrast  to  the  more  pretentious  struc- 
tures that  were  coated  in  conspicuous  hues 
of  ready-mixed  lead,  with  their  white-washed 
fences  and  lime-desecrated  tree-trunks. 

Victoria  felt  herself  fortunate  in  not  having 
to  remain  long  at  the  ramshackle  hotel,  full  of 
flies  and  dogs,  and  frequented,  she  saw  at  a 
glance,  by  men  who  were  coatless  and  in  some 
instances  shoeless.  It  was  not  hard  to  trace 
her  father.  Strangers  of  such  distinguished 
appearance  were  rare  in  Lorch,  and  were  not 
strangers  long.  It  was  plain  that  James  York 
Torrance  had  impressed  and  interested  Lorch ; 
and  Victoria  could  have  probably  ascertained 
where  he  was  from  any  citizen  of  whom  she 
might  have  made  inquiry. 

The  citizen  of  whom  she  did  make  inquiry 
was  the  landlord.  Yes,  Mr.  Torrance  had 
stopped  at  the  hotel  for  several  days  ;  but  he. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  187 

had  gone  out  into  the  country  now.  He  had 
rented  the  place  of  Cephas  Dismukes  and  had 
already  moved  in.  It  was  about  five  miles  out, 
but  there  was  a  tolerably  good  road.  His  old 
nigger  was  in  town  that  very  morning.  Had 
seen  him  not  an  hour  before.  Of  course  he 
could  be  found,  and  he  would  be,  dead  or  alive, 
if  he  had  not  started  back  yet.  The  lady  just 
wait  a  few  minutes. 

And  the  landlord,  delegating  his  son  to  ex- 
plore one  end  of  the  street,  himself  sauntered 
off  down  the  other;  the  result  being  that  Bev, 
breathless,  white-eyed,  snuffling  and  almost 
shouting,  was  soon  blessing  God  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Victoria. 

"  You  sutny  is  sent  by  de  will  er  de  Lawd, 
Miss  Victoria;  you  sutny  is  !  Da's  how  come 
I 's  in  dis  yere  town  to-day,  caze  I  done  writ 
you  a  letter  an'  come  in  fer  to  put  it  in  de  pos'- 
awfice.  I  ain't  sayin'  zackly  dat  I  writ  it  my- 
se'f.  De  doctor,  he  done  de  writin'  but  I  gin 
him  de  name  an'  de  caution,  an'  he  fix  up  de 
letter,  unbeknownst  to  Marse  Jeems  York." 

"  The  doctor !  What  doctor  ?  "  asked  Vic- 
toria in  sudden  alarm.  "  Is  any  one  —  is 
father  ill?" 

"  No  'm ;  he  ain't  ill,  Miss  Victoria.     Tain't 


1 88  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

dat  bad.  Marse  Jeems  York  des  ailin'  sorter. 
He  ain't  got  vatcinated  to  dis  yere  country  yit. 
An'  I  don't  blame  him,  needer.  I  ain't  feelin' 
so  peart  myse'f.  Me  an'  de  doctor,  we  des 
'lowed  't  would  n't  be  so  lonesome  fer  Marse 
Jeems  York  ef  he  had  somer  de  home  folks  to 
sorter  tek  keer  him  a  while.  Da 's  how  come 
we  fix  up  de  letter." 

Victoria  was  not  long  in  getting  away  from 
Lorch.  Bev  had  driven  to  town  in  a  "  carryall," 
and  she  was  soon  on  the  seat  beside  him,  her 
trunk  in  the  bed  of  the  vehicle  and  the  mule 
striking  out  homeward,  Bev  was  pleased  to 
remark,  "  at  a  heap  livelier  clip  dan  all  de 
hollerin'  an'  de  whuppin'  could  git  outn  de  var- 
mint gwine  de  yuther  way." 

The  town  left  behind,  the  road,  which  was  a 
corduroy  three  or  four  feet  higher  than  the 
surface  of  the  country  it  traversed,  was  cut 
through  a  forest  of  gigantic  trees  and  thick  un- 
dergrowth, whose  extent  seemed  almost  limit- 
less. The  soil,  where  it  was  visible,  was  dark 
and  moist,  and  the  streams  were  sluggish 
and  murky.  After  what  seemed  to  Victoria 
miles  and  miles  of  this  wood  had  been  pene- 
trated, with  never  a  sign  of  human  life  any- 
where, the  road  ran  out  into  a  clearing  bounded 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  189 

only  by  the  horizon.  The  black  lands  stretched 
away  for  leagues,  the  monotony  of  the  cotton- 
fields  varied  only  by  the  monotony  of  the  corn- 
fields, with  here  and  there  a  cluster  of  trees 
about  an  unpretentious  farmhouse.  The  sun, 
hanging  low,  shot  its  rays  straight  along  the 
burnished  corn-tops,  while  it  extended  and  illu- 
minated with  soft  opalescence  the  vague  west- 
ern sky-line.  Something  of  its  vagueness  and 
calm  came  into  Victoria's  eyes  as  she  looked 
over  those  whispering  corn-tops  into  the  fath- 
omless lights  of  the  sunset,  and  there  was  a  touch 
of  awe  even  on  the  face  of  Bev  as  he  turned  it 
for  a  little  to  the  far  circle  where  the  clouds 
and  the  plain  mingled  in  a  deepening  haze. 

"  Over  yander,"  he  explained,  with  a  wave 
of  his  whip,  "  da  's  whar  dey  says  de  Mis'sippi 
is  at.  An'  ef  she  's  over  yander,"  he  added, 
giving  the  mule  his  attention  again,  "  I  reckon 
she  '11  stay  over  yander ;  caze  water  got  to  run 
down-hill  ef  it  runs,  an'  it  don't  look  lak  dey 's 
any  down-hill  er  up-hill  arry  one  over  dere." 

A  few  minutes  later  he  pointed  the  whip 
toward  a  clump  of  trees,  over  which  was  a 
spiral  of  wood  smoke,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off 
the  road. 

"  Da 's  whar  we  gwine,"  he  said.     "  All  dis 


190  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Ian'  twixt  dis  an'  dat  smoke  is  whut  me  an* 
Marse  Jeems  York  is  a-figgerin'  to  put  in  cot- 
ton nex'  spring.  You  ain't  never  seed  no  cot- 
ton Ian'  lak  dis,  back  whar  we  come  f'om," 
turning  off  into  a  lane.  "  But  when  you  say 
Ian'  da's  all  you  gwiner  say.  I  done  toF 
Marse  Jeems  York  dat.  Dey  is  some  toler'ble 
"good  mules  an'  a  gin  dat  '11  do  atter  it 's  sharp- 
ened, but  de  house  fer  de  white  folks,  it  ain't 
no  better  'n  our  hen-'ouse  at  home,  an'  de  fur- 
nicher  —  well,  suh,  de  furnicher  is  des  pine- 
blank  scan'lous.  We  would  n't  no  mo  'n  'lowed 
sich  bedstids  an'  cheers  in  our  nigger  cabins  at 
home  'fo'  de  war." 

As  they  drove  up  to  the  house  Victoria's 
heart  sank.  There  was  an  air  of  neglect  and 
bareness  over  the  place.  The  building  was 
a  two-story  frame,  the  four  rooms  above  and 
below  divided  by  a  narrow  hall,  a  one-story  L 
extending  at  the  rear.  It  was  bald  as  to  cor- 
nices; it  was  raised  on  brick  piles  two  feet 
from  the  ground,  the  space  beneath  the  floor 
having  evidently  been  further  hollowed  out 
by  fowls  and  hogs;  the  chimneys  of  brick,  on 
the  outside  of  each  end  of  the  house,  were 
cracked  and  tottering.  In  color  the  structure 
was  of  the  dull  drab  of  the  rotting  pulp  with 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  191 

which  time  and  weather  coat  unpainted  planed 
poplar.  Slats  were  missing  from  the  warped 
shutters,  and  in  one  of  the  windows  a  wood- 
cut of  a  candidate  for  sheriff  took  the  place 
of  a  shattered  pane.  The  bark  of  the  trees 
in  the  yard  had  been  bitten  away  by  stock, 
and  lower  down  the  boles  had  been  plastered 
with  mud  by  hogs  from  their  wallow.  The 
yard  itself,  except  where  hard  and  smooth 
near  the  sagging-roofed  log  kitchen,  was  over- 
grown with  plantain.  There  was  a  worm-fence 
of  rails,  in  the  corners  of  which  ironweed  and 
mullein  crowded  shoulder-high. 

The  door  opened,  and  a  kindly  faced  woman, 
in  a  dingy  calico  dress,  and  with  a  clay  pipe  in 
her  mouth,  stood  looking  out. 

"Da's  Mis'  Dismukes,"  Bev  volunteered. 
"  De  Dismukeses  ain't  moved  away  yit." 

Victoria  sprang  from  the  wagon  and  hurried 
in,  while  Bev  busied  himself  with  her  trunk. 
Mrs.  Dismukes,  to  whom  Victoria  introduced 
herself  and  briefly  explained  that  she  had 
come  to  visit  her  father,  manifested  no  sur- 
prise. Her  manner  would  not  have  been  dif- 
ferent if  Victoria  had  been  a  member  of  the 
household  returning  after  an  absence  of  a  few 
hours,  She  did  not  offer  her  hand,  nor  make 


192  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

any  other  demonstration  of  welcome,  though 
there  was  nothing  unfriendly  in  the  eter- 
nal tranquillity  of  her  face  and  the  equable 
stolidity  of  her  bearing.  She  took  the  pipe 
from  her  mouth  and  led  the  way  into  the  best 
room,  which,  with  its  bare  floor  and  curtain- 
less  windows  was  furnished  with  a  few  split- 
bottomed  chairs;  a  high  bed,  covered  with  a 
bright  "  log-cabin "  quilt ;  a  pine  table  sup- 
porting a  plain  glass  kerosene  lamp,  that  stood 
on  a  worsted  mat ;  at  one  end  of  the  tall  mantel 
a  tea-canister,  which  served  as  a  tobacco  jar ; 
at  the  other  end  a  colored  glass  stand  which 
was  the  depository  of  odd  packages  of  garden 
seed,  buttons,  bits  of  shell,  a  buckeye,  and  an 
Easter  egg  ;  while  on  the  centre  of  the  mantel 
was  a  wooden  clock,  in  the  crevices  of  which 
were  stuck  receipts  and  the  few  letters  that  had 
come  to  the  Dismukes  family  for  a  generation. 
The  pictures  embraced  a  chromo  of  a  cut 
watermelon  and  a  bowl  of  peaches ;  a  lady  in 
white  furs,  blue  velvet,  and  red  hair  present- 
ing, with  the  compliments  of  a  dry-goods  es- 
tablishment, a  calendar  several  years  out  of 
date ;  and  a  purple  print  on  a  green  poster- 
sheet  of  Wyatt  and  Wade's  celebrated  Spanish 
jack,  Grenada  Grandee, 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  193 

"Come  in  and  set  down,"  was  Mrs.  Dis- 
mukes'  invitation,  as  she  herself  settled  in  a 
chair  apparently  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  "  You 
kin  rest  yo'  things  on  the  bed  there." 

Victoria  compromised  with  the  situation  to 
the  extent  of  seating  herself  for  a  moment  on 
the  edge  of  a  chair. 

"  But  my  father :  may  I  not  see  him  ?  How 
is  he  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  He  's  toler'ble,  I  reckon,"  Mrs.  Dismukes 
replied  calmly. 

"  I  wish  to  go  to  him.  Please  show  me 
the  way  at  once." 

"  Yes  'm,"  without  moving.  "  But  I  don't 
reckon  he  'd  know  you  now ;  he 's  kinder 
outn  his  head  this  evenin'." 

"  Out  of  his  head ! "  Victoria  was  on  her 
feet  instantly,  her  voice  wrung.  "  I  did  not 
know  he  was  so  ill.  No  one  told  me.  Take 
me  to  him  immediately  !  " 

"  Yes  'm.  He  did  n't  git  flighty  till  this 
evenin',  and  he  'd  kinder  dozed  off  when  I 
left  him  just  now.  You  must  take  keer  and 
not  wake  him." 

She  got  up  slowly  and  laid  her  pipe  on  the 
mantel. 

"  Come  along  o'  me,"  she  said  in  the  same 
13 


194  R£d  Blood  and  Blue 

mild  monotone  in  which  she  had  spoken 
throughout. 

Victoria  followed  her  into  the  hall,  up  the 
stairs,  into  a  room  over  the  one  she  had  just 
left.  The  blinds  were  half  shut  and  there  was 
a  faint  odor  of  drugs  in  the  close  air.  Mrs. 
Dismukes  approached  the  bed  softly,  Victoria 
slipping  ahead  of  her. 

"He  is  still  asleep,"  whispered  the  older 
woman.  "  Don't  make  no  noise." 

Victoria  knelt  beside  the  bed  and  bent 
over  the  sleeper.  There  was  little  change 
in  the  thin  face  since  she  had  seen  it  last, 
except  that  it  was  perhaps  thinner  and  was 
flushed  with  fever.  The  fine,  white  hair  lay 
in  disorder  against  the  pillow,  and  as  her 
anxious  eyes  drew  nearer  she  could  see  the 
throb  of  the  pulse  under  the  attenuated  skin 
of  the  temple.  There  was  a  tightness  across 
her  throat  and  a  fulness  in  her  eyes,  and  she 
felt  a  yearning  impulse  to  clasp  him  to  her, 
but  she  drew  back  even  before  Mrs.  Dis- 
mukes' warning  hand  fell  on  her  shoulder. 
She  gazed  at  her  father  for  a  full  minute, 
motionless,  then  mustering  all  her  self-control, 
she  rose  and  beckoned  Mrs.  Dismukes  into 
the  hall. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  195 

"When  was  the  doctor  here?"  she  de- 
manded. 

"  This  raornin',  early." 

"  When  will  he  return  ?  " 

"  He  said  maybe  to-night,  maybe  to-morrow." 

"  My  father  is  worse.  He  was  not  delirious 
until  this  afternoon,  you  have  told  me.  The 
doctor  must  be  sent  for  at  once." 

"  There  wan't  nobody  to  send,  'cep'n  Cephas ; 
but  Cephas  is  too  busy  to-day." 

"  Is  that  Cephas  ?  " 

Victoria,  looking  through  a  window,  pointed 
to  a  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves  sitting  on  the 
woodpile,  his  legs  crossed,  his  elbow  on  his 
knee,  his  chin  in  his  hand,  his  foot  wagging 
slowly  and  regularly.  It  was  the  same  figure, 
the  same  posture,  the  same  wagging  foot  she 
had  noticed  when  she  first  entered  the  yard. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Dismukes,  "  that 's 
Cephas." 

Victoria  ran  downstairs  and  sent  Bev  for 
the  doctor.  Hurrying  back  to  the  sick  room, 
she  found  Mrs.  Dismukes  there,  and  not  un- 
willing to  be  relieved. 

"I'll  go  put  on  supper,"  that  lady  said, 
moving  toward  the  door.  "  Cephas  will  be 
trompin'  roun'  on  the  back  po'ch  d'rec'ly  and 


196  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

scattin'  the  cat  —  he  allus  does  that  away 
when  he  has  to  wait  for  supper  —  and  it 
might  wake  up  yo'  pa." 

Victoria  busied  herself  quietly,  making  what 
changes  in  the  room  she  could  for  comfort  and 
appearance ;  and  when  her  father  began  toss- 
ing and  muttering  she  went  to  him,  and  sitting 
on  the  side  of  the  bed,  gently  touched  his  fore- 
head and  wrists  with  wet  cloths.  He  was 
rambling,  in  his  feverish  sleep,  of  the  old  days 
when  Backwater  was  a  principality  and  he  was 
the  master. 

Suddenly  his  eyes  opened  and  rested  on 
Victoria.  Her  heart  leaped  and  her  breath 
stopped  as  she  leaned  forward  and  waited 
for  some  sign  of  recognition. 

"  Father,"  she  murmured,  timidly  taking  his 
hand,  "  don't  you  know  me?" 

"  Mr.  Swango,"  he  replied,  with  measured 
courtesy,  "  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  pay  you 
the  balance  of  my  indebtedness  to  you  just 
yet.  I  have  not  been  as  fortunate  in  my  farm- 
ing operations  as  I  had  hoped.  But  I  will  pay 
you  every  dollar  before  I  die.  You  have  my 
word  for  that,  sir.  What  more  can  you  ask  ?  " 

Victoria  bent  nearer  with  a  short  sob.  "  Oh, 
father,  it  is  I  —  Victoria  —  your  own  Victoria." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  197 

He  waved  his  hand  imperiously  and  ordered 
sharply,  "  Stop  !  Juliana,  you  must  understand 
me  once  for  all.  Never  speak  that  name  to 
me  again.  She  is  not  my  Victoria.  She  has 
scorned  my  wishes ;  she  has  defied  my  au- 
thority. She  has  led  her  brother  into  filial 
disobedience  and  into  cowardly  dishonor.  She 
has  done  what  no  Torrance  before  has  ever 
done  —  made  the  name  a  byword  and  a  re- 
proach. She  has  exiled  her  own  father  from 
the  land  of  his  birth  and  of  his  shame.  I 
leave  The  Mounds  at  once.  No ;  you  shall 
not  wake  her.  I  will  not  see  her.  I  will  never 
see  her  again.  I  am  going  to  begin  life  over, 
in  another  part  of  the  State.  I  am  not  too 
old  yet  to  right  myself  with  the  world  —  Bev 
and  I  together  —  and  I  will  not  die  until  I 
do  it.  I  have  not  been  able  to  do  much  here, 
but  there  is  a  better  chance  in  West  Ten- 
nessee. Bev  will  tell  you  that.  And  no  one 
shall  say  that  I  remained  at  The  Mounds, 
even  apparently  on  the  bounty  of  a  daughter 
who  has  ceased  to  be  a  daughter.  Good-bye, 
Juliana.  Here  is  some  money  for  Clara.  See 
that  she  pays  her  board  regularly,  as  long  as 
she  lives  at  The  Mounds." 

Victoria,  as  he  spoke,  had  shrunk  down  until 


198  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

her  knees  slipped  to  the  floor,  but  after  an 
involuntary  exclamation  of  protest  and  appeal, 
no  sound  escaped  her  lips  and  only  an 
occasional  convulsive  tremor  betrayed  her 
torture. 

The  wandering  mind  turned  to  other  things : 
to  the  cold  well  at  Backwater ;  to  the  prepa- 
rations for  a  Christmas  dinner  in  the  old 
times,  and  various  orders  to  the  negroes  of  the 
kitchen  and  the  dining-room  ;  to  the  rich  cotton 
lands  around  Lorch  and  consultation  with  Bev 
over  plans  for  next  year's  crop. 

Then  Victoria  rose,  and  putting  aside  all 
thoughts  of  self,  became  at  once  the  calm, 
resourceful  nurse,  whose  presence  brought  an 
instantaneous  light  of  recognition  and  con- 
fidence to  the  face  of  the  doctor  as  he  entered 
the  room. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  199 


XVII 

FOR  forty-eight  hours  Victoria's  vigil  by  the 
bedside  was  incessant,  except  for  a  little  sleep 
which  she  snatched,  within  call,  when  her 
place  was  taken  by  Mrs.  Dismukes  or  Bev. 
Nothing  that  the  most  faithful  ministration 
could  do  for  her  father  was  left  undone.  Dr. 
Browder  came  and  went,  hard-worked,  patient, 
cheerful,  and  always  the  more  cheerful  on 
leaving  Victoria. 

"  Now  that  your  father  has  such  a  nurse," 
he  told  her,  "  I  have  half  a  dozen  patients  who 
need  me  more  than  he  does." 

Victoria  and  the  old  doctor  were  sick- 
room friends  at  once,  each  relying  without 
reserve  on  the  other.  The  experienced  practi- 
tioner knew  the  value  of  such  an  assistant  as 
soon  as  he  saw  her,  and  she  was  hardly  less 
prompt  in  detecting  the  worth  of  the  man  and 
the  physician,  and  in  trusting  both  implicitly. 

When  Dr.  Browder  came  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  second  day  after  her  arrival  her  father 
was  sleeping.  The  doctor  remained  in  the 


2oo  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

room  but  a  minute,  and  as  Victoria  followed 
him  into  the  hall  she  was  already  aglow  over 
the  good  news  which  she  read  in  his  face. 

"  The  fever  is  broken,"  he  said,  as  he  closed 
the  door  upon  the  sleeper ;  "  when  he  wakes 
his  mind  will  be  clear." 

A  glad  light  sprang  into  her  eyes.  "  I  can- 
not tell  you  how  grateful  I  am  to  you,  doctor," 
she  answered,  pressing  his  hand. 

"  Your  father  owes  more  to  you  than  to 
anybody  else.  But  he  has  not  recognized  you 
yet.  He  does  not  know  you  are  here.  You 
must  not  let  him  discover  you  too  suddenly. 
Better  leave  it  to  me,  and  I  '11  prepare  him  for 
it  at  the  proper  time." 

Her  eyes  darkened  with  pain  and  doubt. 
She  had  thought  of  this  often  as  she  sat  by  her 
father  in  his  unconsciousness.  What  should 
she  do  when  his  reason  returned  ?  What 
would  be  the  effect  of  her  presence  upon  him  ? 
Should  she  place  herself  within  the  possibility 
of  recognition  at  all;  at  least,  while  he  was 
ill?  If  she  was  to  infer  his  feeling  toward 
her  by  his  action  that  last  night  at  The 
Mounds,  by  his  departure,  by  his  letter,  by 
his  delirious  wanderings,  would  it  be  wise  to 
reveal  herself  to  him  here  now,  if  ever  ? 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  201 

"I  am  afraid,  doctor,"  she  said,  after  a 
moment  of  hesitation,  "  it  is  best  that  he 
should  not  know,  for  the  present,  that  I  am 
here :  because  —  " 

It  came  to  her  suddenly  that  she  would  take 
this  kindly  and  sensible  old  man  partially  into 
her  confidence  and  throw  herself  upon  his 
counsel.  So  she  explained  to  him  enough  of 
what  had  occurred  to  indicate  the  existing 
relations  between  herself  and  her  father,  touch- 
ing necessarily,  but  briefly,  upon  his  insulated 
life,  sensitive  pride,  and  passionate  nature. 

"  I  think  you  are  right,"  the  doctor  said  with 
a  constrained  sympathy  in  his  tone,  after  she 
had  finished.  "  It  would  be  discreet  to  wait 
for  a  day  or  two,  until  he  is  stronger,  before 
showing  yourself.  Leave  it  to  me  and  I  will 
judge,  as  best  I  can,  when  and  how  to  act. 
In  the  mean  time,  you  can  take  the  rest  you 
need  so  much." 

She  thought  little  of  rest  for  herself  during 
the  next  few  days.  The. mere  fact  that  she 
was  so  near  and  yet  must  remain  out  of  her 
father's  room,  was  not  conducive  to  rest.  Mrs. 
Dismukes  and  Bev,  having  with  some  difficulty 
been  impressed  with  the  necessity  of  keeping 
the  invalid  in  ignorance  of  his  daughter's 


202  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

presence,  alternated  in  attendance  upon  him ; 
while  Victoria  sat  in  the  hall  outside,  the 
door  slightly  ajar  that  she  might  hear  any 
sound  within,  accessible  for  consultation  at 
any  instant,  prompt  to  give  direction  on  every 
point,  tireless  in  preparing  delicacies  for  a  con- 
valescent appetite  and  in  providing  the  count- 
less little  comforts  which  only  a  woman's  love 
can  provide  for  the  helpless. 

Finally,  one  morning,  as  the  doctor  was 
about  entering  the  sick-room,  he  answered 
gently  the  appeal  of  her  eyes  and  her  anxious 
inquiry  whether  he  had  spoken  yet. 
"  Not  yet,  but  I  think  I  may  to-day." 
As  he  closed  the  door  behind  him  Victoria, 
impelled  by  the  desire  that  possesses  one  at 
times  to  get  away,  for  a  little,  from  some 
inevitable  crisis  —  to  postpone,  for  a  little,  the 
knowledge  of  its  issue  —  walked  down  to  the 
gate,  and  through  it,  past  the  doctor's  horse, 
along  the  bush-bordered  lane.  There  was  some 
vague  relief  —  a  rarer  air,  a  lighter  foot  —  after 
a  clump  of  elders  had  shut  the  house  from 
view ;  and  yet  she  went  but  a  short  way 
beyond  the  elders  before  retracing  her  path 
until  she  could  again  see  the  house.  Thus  she 
strolled  slowly  back  and  forth  along  the  lane, 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  203 

now  anxiously  scanning  the  house,  now  with 
the  screen  of  the  elders  between;  her  eyes 
again  roaming  the  monotonous  fields  around 
her,  and  again  pretending  to  search  for  wild- 
flowers  at  her  feet. 

At  last,  after  what  seemed  hours,  she  saw 
Dr.  Browder  standing  in  the  doorway,  appar- 
ently looking  for  her.  She  went  at  once 
rapidly  toward  him,  her  eyes  fixed  on  him  as 
if  in  fascination.  At  the  gate  there  was  just 
an  instant  of  seeming  desire  to  lean  upon  it  for 
support,  as  she  opened  it  and  hastened  on  to  Dr. 
Browder.  Not  until  she  was  within  a  few  yards 
of  him  did  her  steps  slacken  as  her  supreme 
ordeal  came.  But  when  she  had  crossed  those 
few  yards  and  stood  before  the  doctor  she  ap- 
peared as  calm  and  inscrutable  as  he,  who  had 
trained  himself  to  calmness  and  inscrutability. 

"  Well  ? "  she  asked,  waiting. 

The  doctor  seemed  in  no  haste  to  answer. 
"  Your  father,"  he  finally  said,  "  knows  that 
you  are  here,  and  has  consented  that  you  re- 
main with  him  for  the  present." 

The  face  that  bloomed  before  him  in  swift 
comprehension  and  rapture  he  always  after- 
wards held  in  his  memory  as  the  most  beautiful 
thing  that  had  ever  blessed  his  old  eyes. 


204  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

She  made  no  sound,  except  a  little  cry,  which 
was  so  low  that  it  was  hardly  more  than  audi- 
ble. She  started  rapidly  into  the  hall;  but 
she  abruptly  whirled,  and  running  to  the  doctor 
took  his  hands,  and,  as  her  grateful  eyes  filled 
suddenly,  bowed  her  head  upon  his  shoulder, 
breaking  into  what  he  would  have  been  at 
a  loss  to  say  was  repressed  laughter  or 
sobbing. 

In  a  moment  she  had  recovered  herself  and 
was  looking  him  in  the  face  again. 

"  I  am  going  now,"  she  said.  "  But  first 
tell  me  everything  that  passed  between  you 
and  father.  I  have  a  right  to  know." 

"  I  began  by  telling  your  father,"  he  ex- 
plained, "  that  I  wanted  some  one  of  his  family 
to  be  with  him  —  that  it  would  be  a  benefit  to 
him  and  an  aid  to  me,  which  I  insisted  on.  But 
he  would  not  consent  to  it ;  he  would  not  even 
discuss  it.  I  then  trumped  up  a  story  that 
you  had  written  to  me  begging  to  be  allowed  to 
come,  and  I  urged  him  to  authorize  me  to  write 
for  you.  He  not  only  flatly  refused,  but  added 
that  if  I  did  send  for  you  he  would  leave  the 
place  at  once.  After  a  while  I  played  my  last 
card  and  told  him  that  you  had  come  of  your 
own  accord  soon  after  he  became  ill ;  that  you 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  205 

had  been  a  godsend  to  both  him  and  me  ;  that 
you  had  been  with  him  throughout  his  delirium 
and  had  done  everything  that  the  most  devoted 
nurse  could  do  since,  without  risking  his  dis- 
pleasure by  letting  him  discover  your  presence. 
That  got  him." 

Victoria  said  —  she  tried  to  say  it  in  her 
natural  voice: 

"  You  have  managed  it  beautifully,  doctor." 

Then  she  hastened  to  her  father;  and  Dr. 
Browder,  leaving  the  house,  muttered  indig- 
nantly : 

"  I  could  n't  tell  her  that  the  old  mummy 
would  not  give  in  until  I  swore  to  him  that 
if  he  did  n't  he  would  have  her  break-down 
and  maybe  her  death  on  his  hands  —  be-damn 
to  him ! " 


206  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XVIII 

AFTER  that  the  old  relations  between  father 
and  daughter  seemed  fully  restored,  —  and 
more :  for  to  the  old  intimacy,  rare  as  it  was, 
there  was  the  new  tenderness,  oftener  sug- 
gested than  expressed,  that  follows  reunion 
after  estrangement;  while  there  was,  further, 
on  the  part  of  Victoria,  the  exultant  gratitude 
for  a  loved  one's  rescue  from  illness,  and  on 
the  part  of  Mr.  Torrance  the  tonic  reaction  of 
the  convalescent. 

They  were  beautiful  autumn  days  which  the 
two  spent  together,  sitting  in  Mrs.  Dismukes' 
bare  hall,  or  sometimes,  in  the  early  mornings 
and  the  evenings,  in  her  best  room,  with  a  few 
sticks  of  hickory  crackling  and  simmering  in 
the  fireplace.  Victoria  had  obtained  a  buggy 
at  Lorch,  and  many  were  the  fine  afternoons 
that  slipped  by  as  she  drove  her  father  be- 
tween the  flat  fields  and  through  the  great 
forest,  dashed  now  with  gold  and  scarlet  and 
fragrant  with  wild  grape  and  muscadine. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  207 

There  was  no  talk  between  them  now  of 
Victoria's  return  to  The  Mounds.  Once  she 
had  told  her  father  that  as  long  as  he  remained 
in  West  Tennessee  she  intended  to  remain 
with  him,  and  he  had  postponed  the  discussion 
of  that  point  to  some  indefinite  day,  replying 
that  though  it  was  best  for  his  worldly  affairs 
that  he  should  try  at  least  one  crop  in  this  part 
of  the  State,  there  was  no  necessity  for  cross- 
ing any  bridges  before  they  were  reached.  It 
was  as  though,  content  with  the  present,  he 
had  no  desire  to  anticipate  the  future.  Be- 
yond this  the  subject  had  not  been  mentioned 
by  either;  and  to  this  may  be  added  one 
subject  which,  though  it  must  have  been  often 
in  their  thoughts,  had  never  been  mentioned  at 
all  —  that  of  Lee  Torrance  and  his  marriage. 

Only  once,  too,  had  Victoria  ventured  to 
remonstrate,  tentatively,  against  his  remain- 
ing, even  for  a  year.  In  a  few  months,  she 
reminded  him,  she  would  come  into  full  pos- 
session of  The  Mounds,  with  power  to  dispose 
of  it  as  she  chose  ;  and  it  had  long  been  her 
intention  to  turn  it  over  to  him  for  the  pay- 
ment of  his  debts.  James  York  Torrance  em- 
phatically vetoed  this  proposition.  He  would 
no  more  think  of  accepting  the  property  of  his 


208  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

daughter  than  of  anybody  else.  And  even  if 
he  would,  The  Mounds  would  not  bring  enough 
at  forced  sale  to  meet  his  requirements.  He 
had  had  sufficient  experience  on  that  score 
from  the  sale  of  Backwater.  Victoria,  she 
was  enjoined,  was  neither  to  speak  of  nor  to 
think  of  such  a  thing, —  an  injunction  which 
she  only  partially  observed. 

For  she  was  thinking  of  it  one  afternoon  as 
she  sat  in  the  hall,  a  bit  of  needlework  in  her 
hand,  the  balmy  air,  following  the  western 
sun-rays,  drifting  through  the  open  doors. 
The  time  was  opportune  for  thought:  her 
father  had  gone  upstairs  for  a  nap,  Mrs.  Dis- 
mukes  had  ridden  off  to  visit  the  neighbors, 
and  even  the  soporific  figure  of  Cephas  was 
nowhere  visible  in  its  accustomed  haunts. 

So  engrossed  was  she  in  her  reflections  that 
she  did  not  hear  a  horse  gallop  up  to  the  gate, 
nor  was  she  aware  of  an  intruder  until,  at 
a  rap  on  the  doorcase,  she  looked  up  and  saw 
Andrew  Outcault  standing  in  the  entrance. 

She  rose  instantly,  her  color  quickening,  her 
shoulders  slightly  thrown  back. 

"  Mr.  Outcault !  You  !  "  she  cried,  the  sur- 
prise of  her  exclamation  hardly  exceeding  its 
resentment. 


Red  Blood  »nd  Blue  209 

To  Outcault  she  seemed  by  her  action  more 
than  by  her  words  instinctively  to  bar  his  way. 

"  I  fear  I  must  beg  your  indulgence,  Miss 
Torrance,"  he  said  as  he  bowed,  "  but  I  wish 
very  much  to  see  your  father  for  a  few 
moments,  on  business  of  some  importance  to 
me,"  As  he  spoke  he  stooped  and  picked  up 
a  pair  of  scissors  that  had  slipped  from  her 
lap  when  she  got  up. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said,  as  he  restored  them 
to  her.  "  I  hope,"  she  added,  "  you  will  not 
think  I  wish  to  be  rude,  but  surely,  Mr.  Out- 
cault, you  must  understand  that  your  presence 
here  would  be  exceedingly  displeasing  to  my 
father." 

"Yes,"  with  a  faint  smile,  "I  presume  I  do 
have  some  understanding  of  that ;  but  I  have 
come  here  to  ask  an  interview  which  I  believe 
I  am  entitled  to,  regardless  of  any  personal 
disinclination  he  may  have  to  granting  it." 

"  Mr.  Outcault  "  —  she  spoke  very  firmly 
and  deliberately  —  "I  must  request  you  not  to 
insist  on  this.  My  father  has  been  ill.  He 
has  a  peculiar  temperament,  which  I  am  cer- 
tain would  be  greatly  excited  by  your  appear- 
ance here.  In  his  interest,  at  least,  I  —  must 
decline  to  invite  you  to  remain." 

14 


2io  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

The  words  seemed  to  strike  home.  Outcault 
unmistakably  flushed. 

"I  —  perhaps  you  are  right,"  he  answered 
a  little  unevenly.  "  I  had  not  thought  of  that. 
I  will  wait  till  a  better  time."  He  bowed  and 
moved  to  leave. 

She  returned  his  bow.  "  I  am  —  sorry  —  " 
she  murmured. 

He  paused  suddenly  and  looked  at  her 
again. 

"  Do  you  think,  if  I  should  remain  in  Lorch 
a  week  or  two,  I  might  make  another  attempt 
to  see  Mr.  Torrance?  Perhaps  if  I  told  you 
the  nature  of  my  business  and  asked  you  to 
use  your  judgment  and  select  some  favorable 
time  to  mention  it  to  him  an  interview  might 
be  arranged." 

Victoria  hesitated. 

"  Of  course,"  she  finally  answered,"  if  it  is 
so  urgent,  I  shall  be  willing  to  do  what  I  can, 
provided  —  " 

She  seemed  uncertain  how  to  finish. 

"  Provided  I  am  not  too  unreasonable,  I 
suppose,"  again  with  the  faint  smile.  "  It  is 
simply  this,  Miss  Torrance  :  I  have  come  here 
to  see  Mr.  Torrance  in  order  that  I  may  learn 
from  him  the  amount  he  lost  through  my 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  211 

father.  I  am  anxious  to  repay  him  all  that 
his  business  association  with  my  father  cost 
him.  It  is  an  obligation  which  has  weighed 
upon  me  a  long  time,  and  which,  now  that 
I  am  at  last  able  to  do  so,  I  wish  to  re- 
lieve myself  of  with  as  little  delay  as  pos- 
sible. If  you  will  mention  the  matter  to  Mr. 
Torrance,  as  soon  as  you  think  advisable,  and 
induce  him  either  to  give  me  a  short  inter- 
view, or  send  me,  at  Lorch,  a  full  statement  of 
all  that  he  paid  directly  to  my  father,  and  of 
the  indebtedness  to  the  other  stockholders 
which  he  assumed,  you  will  do  me  a  favor 
which  I  shall  appreciate." 

Victoria's  countenance  underwent  a  subtle 
change  as  he  spoke;  but  Outcault  did  not 
know  whether  it  was  to  less  coldness  or  merely 
to  deeper  thoughtfulness. 

She  waited  a  moment,  as  if  for  anything 
more  he  might  wish  to  add.  Then  she 
said: 

"  What  you  ask  me  to  do  seems  reasonable. 
Please  sit  down,  and  I  will  go  up  and  see  if 
father  is  awake  yet.  He  should  know  of  your 
visit  and  its  object." 

"  Thank  you."  Outcault  bowed  and  seated 
himself,  as  she  went  up  the  stairs. 


212  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

She  soon  returned,  and  as  Outcault  rose  she 
asked  him  to  keep  his  seat. 

"  Father  is  still  asleep,"  she  explained,  re- 
suming her  own  chair;  "  but  I  am  sure  he  will 
be  up  in  a  few  minutes  now.  If  you  do  not 
mind  waiting  a  little  he  may  see  you  this 
afternoon." 

"  I  have  nothing  better  to  do  in  this  part 
of  the  country,"  sitting  again ;  "  but  don't  let 
me  impose  on  you.  I  fear,"  glancing  at  the 
sewing  she  had  laid  aside,  "  I  have  interrupted 
your  work." 

She  did  not  seem  to  think  that  worth  a 
reply ;  but,  evidently  determined  to  make  con- 
versation, she  inquired  : 

"When  did  you  leave  Feme  Run,  Mr. 
Outcault  ? " 

"  Day  before  yesterday.  I  saw  one  of  your 
friends  in  town  just  before  I  left  —  Miss  Rosalie 
Kemp." 

"  Yes  ?     And  how  was  Rosalie  ? " 

"  She  was  as  charming  as  ever.  She  told 
me  confidentially,  however,  that  she  was  pin- 
ing away  on  account  of  your  desertion,  and 
that  if  you  did  not  return  soon  she  intended 
to  start  out  in  the  world  in  search  of  you.  I 
believe  she  would  have  been  equal  to  coming 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  213 

with  me  if  she  had  known  that  I  was  about  to 
hunt  up  Mr.  Torrance." 

Victoria  smiled.  "  Did  you  have  any  trouble 
in  finding  him  ?  " 

"  None  at  all.  The  Feme  Run  paper  said 
he  had  leased  a  farm  in  this  part  of  the  State, 
and  Lee  told  me  Lorch  was  his  post-office." 

"  Lee  writes  me  that  he  is  very  busy  now." 
It  was  plainly  an  indication  that  she  was  willing 
to  hear  Outcault  talk  of  Lee. 

"Yes.  He  will  make  his  way,  I  am  sure. 
He  has  already  taken  a  contract  to  build  a 
section  of  our  little  railroad,  and  he  is  think- 
ing of  going  in  with  me  next  season  in  the 
horse-radish  business,"  Outcault  added,  with 
a  glimmer  of  a  smile  in  his  eyes. 

"  And  Janet  —  what  of  her?  " 

"  Blooming.  She  and  Lee  are  very  happy, 
and  Captain  Halliburton  seems  hardly  less 
happy  in  watching  their  happiness.  I  think 
they  would  go  to  housekeeping  themselves  but 
for  Captain  Halliburton's  delight  in  having 
them  with  him." 

"  I  hope  to  have  Lee  and  Janet  make  their 
home  with  us  at  The  Mounds  before  very 
long." 

"  That  is  natural,  but  I  almost  wish  you  to 


214  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

be  disappointed,  Miss  Torrance.  If  you  knew 
Captain  Halliburton  as  well  as  I  do,  what  a 
big  heart  he  has,  how  essentially  a  family 
man  he  is,  and  how  he  has  missed  the  best 
in  the  home  life  that  would  seem  ought  to 
have  been  his,  you  would  understand  what  I 
mean." 

"  He  is  devoted  to  Janet,  is  he  not  ?  " 
"  He  has  always  been,  more  so  than  to  any 
one  else,  except  perhaps  to  —  " 

Outcault  failed  to  finish  the  sentence,  not 
because  it  would  have  been  any  betrayal  of 
Cap'n  Pow's  confidence  —  for  there  was  prob- 
ably no  one  about  Feme  Run  who  could  not 
have  supplied  the  name  of  the  Lady  which 
Outcault  omitted  —  but  because  he  was  not  in 
the  habit  of  talking  of  this  chapter  of  Cap'n 
Pow's  life;  and  he  was  surprised  at  himself 
that  he  should  have  touched  on  it  in  this 
instance.  A  short  process  of  self-analysis, 
if  he  had  been  given  to  introspection,  might 
have  shown  him  that,  though  he  had  seen  so 
little  of  Victoria  Torrance,  yet  in  his  inmost 
thoughts  he  had  so  long  set  her  apart  from  all 
others,  that  now  when  in  her  actual  presence 
he  unconsciously  assumed  toward  her  some- 
thing of  the  intimacy  and  confidence  which 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  215 

years  of  nurture  of  his  mental  image  of  her 
had  generated. 

Neither  of  them  spoke  for  a  few  seconds 
after  this. 

It  was  enough  for  Outcault  that  he  was 
near  her  —  so  near  that  by  taking  two  steps 
toward  her  he  could  have  touched  her  with 
his  hand ;  that  he  could  look  upon  her  openly, 
closely,  and  not  as  in  the  days  when  he 
haunted  the  fields  for  a  glimpse  of  her, 
or  later  when  he  was  limited  to  a  passing 
glance  on  the  highway  or  a  view  of  her  across 
the  church.  Here  he  was  sitting  before  her, 
with  no  other  to  divide  his  attention,  with 
nothing  to  interfere.  He  could  see  without 
obstruction  and  without  haste  the  exquisite 
play  of  feature  and  color,  the  dignity,  delicacy, 
and  at  times  sudden  brilliancy  of  the  facial  ex- 
pression, the  firm  mould  of  chin  and  forehead, 
the  mobile  arch  of  the  lips,  the  curve  of  the 
lashes  against  the  pure  skin,  the  mingling 
lights  and  shadows  of  the  rebellious  hair,  the 
lights  and  shadows  of  eyes  that  were  fountains 
of  light  and  reservoirs  of  shadow,  the  graceful 
lines  of  the  slender  figure,  the  sinuous  swell 
of  the  wrist,  the  rare  modelling  of  the  hand 
as  it  sought  once  the  coil  of  her  hair,  the  very 


216  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

texture  and  folds  and  stir  of  the  soft  dress 
which  seemed  a  part  of  her.  Outcault  asked 
no  more  than  this  now.  It  mattered  nothing 
to  him  that  Victoria  but  a  few  minutes  before 
had  almost  dismissed  him  the  house.  That 
was  of  the  long  past.  Victoria  herself  was  the 
present.  The  future  would  take  care  of  itself. 
The  present  was  his.  It  was  of  little  conse- 
quence what  was  said,  so  that  it  enabled  him 
to  hear  the  voice  he  had  heard  so  infrequently 
in  his  life  and  so  constantly  in  his  dreams. 
He  took  scant  thought  of  what  he  should  say 
himself.  He  knew  that  now  was  no  time  for 
saying  anything  but  commonplaces.  Some 
day,  after  his  business  with  Mr.  Torrance  was 
settled,  it  would  be  different. 

Victoria  was  the  first  to  break  the  brief 
silence. 

"  You  spoke  of  the  railroad,"  she  said :  "  then 
it  is  really  to  be  built  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  It  is  already  under  way.  With 
anything  like  favorable  weather  it  will  be  fin- 
ished by  spring.  It  is  only  about  twenty-five 
miles  long,  you  know." 

With  such  stop-gap  questions  by  Victoria 
and  matter-of-fact  answers  by  Outcault  perhaps 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  more  passed,  when,  to  the 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  217 

keen  regret  of  Outcault,  Victoria  rose,  remark- 
ing that  she  thought  she  heard  her  father 
stirring  in  his  room,  and  that  she  would  go 
up  and  see  if  he  had  yet  wakened. 

Five  minutes  later  James  York  Torrance, 
with  his  usual  erect  carnage,  came  slowly 
down  the  stairway.  Victoria  did  not  return ; 
and  this,  with  the  thought  that  he  was  not  to 
see  her  again  now,  was,  for  the  moment,  of 
more  concern  to  Outcault  than  the  meeting 
he  was  about  to  have  with  her  father,  which 
he  had  waited  for  and  worked  for  most  of  the 
years  of  his  life. 


2i 8  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XIX 

OUTCAULT  rose  as  Mr.  Torrance  reached  the 
floor  of  the  hall.  The  old  gentleman  bowed 
courteously,  and  motioned  Outcault  to  resume 
his  seat ;  but  he  neither  extended  his  hand  to 
his  visitor  nor  called  his  name. 

"  My  daughter  informs  me  that  you  wish  to 
see  me,"  he  said,  taking  a  chair  almost  across 
the  width  of  the  hall  from  Outcault  and  ad- 
dressing him  with  easy  formality ;  "  and  upon 
an  unusual  mission,  though  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  understand  it  quite  definitely." 

"I  can  explain  it  to  you,  sir,  in  a  few 
words." 

"  Be  so  obliging,  if  you  please." 

"  I  wish  to  make  good  the  money  which  my 
father  secured  from  you  by  inducing  you, 
through  fraudulent  representations,  to  form  a 
business  connection  with  himself,  and  also  to 
make  good  to  you  the  money  which  you  paid 
back  to  all  others  who  were  led  to  take  stock 
in  that  enterprise.  In  short,  Mr.  Torrance, 
it  is  my  object  to  restore  to  you  all  that  you 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  219 

lost  through  my  father ;  and  I  am  here  to  ask 
you  for  a  statement  of  the  amount :  for  while 
I  have  a  reasonably  accurate  general  idea  of 
it,  I  do  not  know  the  precise  sum." 

Mr.  Torrance  looked  reflectively  for  several 
seconds  at  the  tips  of  his  shapely  fingers. 
When  he  again  lifted  his  eyes  to  Outcault  he 
said,  with  hardly  a  perceptible  modification  of 
tone : 

"  I  must  own,  sir,  that  your  visit  to  me  is 
somewhat  a  surprise.  Not  that  its  purpose  is 
not  a  natural  one.  Such  a  purpose  should  be, 
I  might  say,  imperative  on  the  part  of  any  man 
placed  in  the  same  situation  as  yourself.  But 
I  am  free  to  say  it  is  not  so,  in  our  loose,  latter- 
day  materialism.  In  fact,  I  may  add  that  while 
all  men  under  like  conditions  to  yours  should 
act  as  you  propose  to  act,  very  few  of  them,  I 
fear,  would  do  so.  In  fine,  Mr.  Outcault,  your 
case  belongs  to  the  exceptions,  while  it  should 
belong  to  the  rule.  Which  is  to  say,"  with  a 
gentle  and  fleeting  smile,  "  that  it  is  not  a 
credit  for  one  to  do  as  you  are  doing  :  it  would 
merely  be  a  discredit  not  to  do  as  you  are 
doing." 

Outcault  restrained  to  his  eyes  the  smile 
that  threatened  his  lips.  "  Perhaps  you  are 


220  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

right,"  he  replied.  "  I  have  never  considered 
the  matter  philosophically.  It  is  simply  a 
debt  which  fell  to  me,  and  until  I  have  got 
rid  of  it  I  shall  never  feel  free  to  enjoy  life 
as  a  man  should.  So  its  payment  now,  instead 
of  being  a  point  of  credit,  seems  to  be  one 
merely  of  selfishness.  I  had  not  thought  of 
it  in  that  light  before.  The  truth  is,  I  sup- 
pose, that  the  thought  I  have  given  it  has 
been  chiefly  upon  the  problem,  how  to  get 
the  money.  I  trust  it  will  not  put  you  to 
much  trouble  to  furnish  me  the  statement  I 
need." 

"  Oh,  no ;  it  will  be  very  little  trouble.  I 
have  the  memoranda  among  my  papers  up- 
stairs, I  presume.  But,  of  course,  you  under- 
stand that  I  can  permit  you  to  return  to  me 
only  what  I  paid  out  to  the  other  stockholders. 
The  eight  thousand  dollars  which  I  subscribed 
for  the  stock  on  my  own  account  is  quite  an- 
other affair.  I  ventured  it  of  my  own  voli- 
tion, with  my  eyes  open  —  caveat  emptor,  the 
lawyers  say,  do  they  not  ?  —  and  I  lost  it. 
That  is  all  there  is  to  that.  No  one  else  is  in 
any  way  concerned  in  it." 

"  My  father  was  concerned  in  it.  Admitting 
that  you  subscribed  it  as  a  business  venture 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  221 

it  was  my  father  who  appropriated  it  and  ab- 
sconded with  it.  I  shall  restore  it  to  you,  sir, 
not  because  you  made  an  unwise  investment, 
but  because  it  was  my  father  who  stole  it." 

"  Before  proceeding  any  further  let  me 
apologize  for  my  little  moralizing  excursion 
a  moment  ago.  That  was  entirely  gratuitous, 
and  certainly  ill-timed.  Please  consider  the 
remarks  unsaid,  sir." 

"  If  you  wish,"  Outcault  smiled.  "  How- 
ever, they  were  not  in  the  least  disagreeable 
to  me,  I  assure  you.  I  merely  recognized 
their  truth." 

"  Because  an  opinion  is  true  is  no  reason 
why  it  should  be  flaunted  out  of  its  place.  My 
volunteering  it  on  this  occasion  was  a  lapse  of 
taste  for  which  there  was  no  excuse.  Now,  sir, 
to  return  to  the  object  of  your  call:  we  can 
quickly  reach  a  clear  understanding.  While 
you  are  under  no  legal  obligation  to  pay  me 
anything,  yet  for  sufficient  reasons  you  desire 
to  recoup  me  for  all  that  I  lost  through  my 
connection  with  your  father.  I  have  signified 
my  willingness  to  accept  so  much  as  I  paid  to 
the  stockholders,  but  I  must,  from  motives 
which  you  should  recognize  to  be  as  natural 
and  cogent  as  those  which  prompt  you  in  your 


222  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

course,  decline  to  receive  any  part  of  the  sum  I 
put  into  the  concern  on  my  own  behalf.  That, 
sir,  was  my  own  act,  whose  consequences  I 
can  allow  no  one  else  to  assume." 

"I  don't  think  you  have  weighed  fully  my 
side  of  the  case.  As  you  say,  there  is  no  ques- 
tion of  legal  obligation.  Nor  will  we  discuss 
any  question  of  moral  duty;  for,  as  I  have 
intimated,  it  has  not  been  that  which  moved 
me.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  I  have  a  moral 
right  to  pay  you  this  money  —  to  do  what  I 
can  to  repair  the  wrong  committed  by  my  own 
father  and  to  square  myself  among  men  with 
my  own  self-respect.  That  right,  sir,  I  assert 
and  insist  upon." 

"  And  I,  sir,  assert  and  insist  upon  the  right 
to  keep  myself  squared  with  my  own  self- 
respect.  It  is  absolutely  useless  to  press  the 
point." 

It  was  pressed,  nevertheless,  forcibly  and 
resolutely,  and  resisted  immovably. 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Torrance,"  Outcault  finally 
concluded.  "  Ever  since  I  learned  of  the  na- 
ture and  consequences  of  your  business  asso- 
ciation with  my  father  I  have  lived  to  cancel 
his  indebtedness  —  to  wipe  out  not  only  the 
score  he  made,  but  as  far  as  possible  the  stain 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  223 

he  left  upon  myself.  You  refuse  to  let  me  do 
this.  You  would  condemn  me  for  life  to  the 
humiliation  of  my  youth.  That,  sir,  is  your 
affair;  but  it  shall  be  mine  to  throw  off  this 
shame,  if  not  with  your  co-operation,  without 
it.  I  shall  pay  you  all  of  this  indebtedness  you 
will  receive;  the  remaining  eight  thousand  dol- 
lars I  shall  deposit  in  the  Feme  Run  National 
Bank  to  your  credit,  to  be  taken  or  left  by  you 
or  yours  as  you  see  fit." 

"  And  there  it  will  remain  forever  then," 
James  York  Torrance  replied. 

"  Then  let  it  remain.  My  end  will  have 
been  gained  none  the  less.  I  shall  have 
done  all  I  can  do  to  free  myself  of  the  load 
that  I  have  carried.  And  I  shall  be  free  of 
it." 

There  was  no  sign  of  anger  in  either.  There 
was  a  power  in  Outcault's  measured  words 
more  impressive  than  passion,  and  there  was 
in  the  speech  and  bearing  of  James  York  Tor- 
rance the  calm  finality  of  a  man  who  was 
equally  sure  of  himself. 

Having  reached  this  point,  at  which  the 
futility  of  further  discussion  was  recognized 
by  each,  Mr.  Torrance  went  to  his  room  and 
returned  in  a  few  minutes  with  a  statement 


224  R-e(i  Blood  and  Blue 

of  the  amount  he  had  paid  to  the  sharehold- 
ers, and  Outcault  wrote  him  a  check  for  it. 

."  You  understand  now,  Mr.  Torrance,"  he 
said,  rising  to  leave,  "  that  within  forty-eight 
hours  the  remaining  eight  thousand  dollars 
will  be  in  the  Feme  Run  National  Bank,  in 
your  name." 

"  I  understand ;  and  so  must  you.  I  shall 
never  touch  a  cent  of  it.  I  am  satisfied  as  it 
is.  If  you  choose  to  throw  away  eight  thou- 
sand dollars  I  presume  it  will  be  for  your  own 
satisfaction,  and  I  don't  suppose  there  will  be 
any  doubt  of  the  bank's  satisfaction."  The 
smile  on  the  thin  old  face  now  was  almost 
winning.  "  Are  you  returning  to  Lorch  this 
afternoon  ? "  he  asked.  "  Let  me  have  your 
horse  put  up  and  prevail  on  you  to  remain  with 
us  for  the  night." 

Outcault  colored  slightly.  "Thank  you,  Mr. 
Torrance.  It  would  give  me  pleasure,  but  I 
leave  by  this  evening's  train." 

That  was  a  purpose  formed  on  the  instant. 
He  was  not  sure  that  there  was  an  evening 
train;  it  would  have  been  far  more  to  him 
than  a  pleasure  to  remain  under  this  roof  for 
the  night;  but  he  had  no  intention  that  his 
relations  as  debtor  to  James  York  Torrance 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  225 

should  change  so  abruptly  to  those  of  guest, 
especially  as  the  hospitality  to  which  he  would 
look  would  include  that  of  Victoria. 

Mr.  Torrance  had  extended  the  invitation 
because  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the 
word  he  was  a  gentleman.  Outcault  had  de- 
clined it  because  he  was  also  a  gentleman ; 
though  it  is  hardly  probable  that  he  was  re- 
garded by  Mr.  Torrance  as  strictly  such.  The 
older  man  would  perhaps  not  have  denied 
that  it  was  possible  for  one  of  Outcault's 
origin  to  be  an  instinctive  gentleman  notwith- 
standing, but  he  would  certainly  have  held 
that  the  chances  were  as  a  thousand  to  one 
against  it. 

But  Mr.  James  York  Torrance  was  a  gentle- 
man as  he  interpreted  that  word,  and  he  did 
not  permit  Outcault  to  go  yet. 

"  Pray  let  me  detain  you  a  moment,  at  any 
rate,"  he  interposed.  "  Victoria,"  he  called  up 
the  stairs,  "  come  here,  please." 

Victoria  appeared  almost  immediately,  hurry- 
ing down  with  an  expression  of  wonder  and 
some  anxiety  on  her  face. 

"  Victoria,"  her  father  said,  as  she  stopped 
on  the  lowest  step,  "  Mr.  Outcault  is  on  the 
point  of  leaving,  but  before  he  goes  I  wish  to 
'5 


226  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

correct  in  your  presence  an  injustice  I  once  did 
him,  also  in  your  presence." 

Victoria  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in 
beautiful  bewilderment;  Outcault,  nonplussed, 
was  staring  blankly  at  Mr.  Torrance ;  and  Mr. 
Torrance  was  smiling  benignly  and  pausing  as 
if  to  await  the  effect  of  his  words. 

"  Many  years  ago,"  he  resumed,  "  when  Mr. 
Outcault  was  a  boy,  I  very  peremptorily  or- 
dered him  away  from  The  Mounds.  Indeed, 
if  my  memory  serves  me,  I  believe  I  ordered 
a  servant  to  eject  him." 

Victoria's  perplexed  face  broke  in  a  sudden 
smile.  "  Oh,  yes !  I  remember,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  It  was  when  he  shot  the  pigeon." 

"  Precisely,"  confirmed  James  York  Tor- 
rance. "  But  it  was  not  so  much  because  of 
the  pigeon  as  because  of  a  —  of  an  erroneous 
estimate  of  him  —  that  I  was  rude  to  him  on 
that  occasion.  And  now,  having  discovered  my 
mistake,  I  wish  to  express  my  regret  to  Mr. 
Outcault  for  the  —  for  the  very  decided  breach 
of  hospitality  I  was  guilty  of  at  that  time." 

Outcault  laughed,  a  little  embarrassed. 
"  That  is  very  thoughtful  and  graceful  of  you, 
Mr.  Torrance,"  he  said,  as  if  it  were  more  than 
half  a  joke,  "  especially  as  the  incident  was 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  227 

so  long  ago.  I  don't  think  I  have  ever  har- 
bored any  violent  animosity  on  account  of  it, 
as,"  with  a  look  at  Victoria,  "  through  the  media- 
tion of  Miss  Torrance,  I  came  to  no  harm." 

He  turned  again  to  Mr.  Torrance.  "  Thank 
you  again  for  the  ready  assistance  you  have 
given  me  this  afternoon.  Good-bye,  sir,"  with 
a  formal  bow. 

James  York  Torrance  advanced  and  took 
the  younger  man's  hand. 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Outcault,"  he  said.  "  I 
trust  you  will  have  no  trouble  in  making  your 
way  back  to  Lorch." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  Outcault  replied,  in  almost 
as  ceremonious  a  manner  as  that  of  his  host. 
"  Good-bye,  Miss  Torrance,"  bowing  to  Vic- 
toria. 

She  stepped  to  the  floor  with  outstretched 
hand. 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Outcault." 

He  forgot  his  ceremony.  It  was  with  almost 
a  bound  that  he  reached  her  and  clasped  her 
hand,  his  blood  tingling  and  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  hers,  lifted  frankly  and  smilingly,  which 
he  searched  with  an  unconscious  fire  that 
caused  her  lids  to  fall. 


228  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XX 

TEN  days  later  James  York  Torrance  and 
Victoria  were  back  at  The  Mounds.  His 
changed  fortunes  made  it  no  longer  incumbent 
upon  him  to  begin  life  over  on  a  West  Tennes- 
see cotton  plantation  ;  and  his  reconciliation 
with  Victoria,  together  with  her  firmly  declared 
purpose  to  remain  with  him  in  any  event,  left 
him  no  good  reason,  if  he  had  wished  any, 
why  he  should  not  yield  to  her  solicitation 
and  return  home.  The  Dismukes  were  found 
even  readier  to  cancel  his  lease  of  their  place 
than  they  had  been  to  make  it;  and  there 
being  nothing  further  to  detain  him,  James 
York  Torrance  took  the  east-bound  train  at 
Lorch,  the  morning  sunlight  being  superflu- 
ous for  the  illumination  of  the  countenances  of 
his  two  companions, — that  of  Victoria  quietly 
radiant,  that  of  Bev  broadly  agrin. 

On  the  day  following  his  arrival  at  The 
Mounds  James  York  Torrance  drove  over  to 
Little  Ony  Swango's  and  paid  him,  principal 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  229 

and  interest,  the  balance  of  the  money  borrowed 
from  him. 

"  Gorm !  "  exclaimed  that  blunt-spoken  indi- 
vidual. "This  knocks  me.  I  never  had  no 
idy  you  'd  ever  be  able  to  make  this  up,  Mr. 
Torrance.  I  knowed  you  went  down  to  the 
Deestric'  two  or  three  mont's  ago  to  take  a 
fresh  start  in  cotton,  but  you  ain't  had  no 
chanst  to  make  no  crop  yit." 

James  York  Torrance  stood  a  little  taller. 
"  You  assuredly  must  have  known,  sir,  that 
I  would  pay  you  the  very  first  thing  after  I 
returned." 

"  Oh !  I  knowed  you  'd  pay  me  the  fus 
thing  after  you  got  the  money;  but  — " 

Ony  ruminated  over  the  mystery  of  it  as  he 
chewed  a  splint  from  the  fence  on  which  he 
was  leaning. 

"  Well,  sir,  you  must  have  known,  ever  since 
Andrew  Outcault  got  back,  that  I  had  the 
money." 

"  Andy  Outcault  ?  Oom,  I  dunno  why  any- 
body 'd  ever  take  up  such  a  fool  notion  as  that 
Andy  Outcault  would  know  anything  about 
yo'  privit  affairs,  Mr.  Torrance." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  inform  me,  sir,  that  you 
have  not  heard  that  Outcault  has  paid  me  the 


230  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

full  amount  of  his  father's  embezzlement,  bar- 
ring my  individual  subscription  to  the  stock  of 
the  concern,  which  he  pressed  upon  me,  but 
which  I  declined  to  accept  ? " 

Ony  lifted  his  chin  from  his  huge  arms, 
folded  across  the  fence. 

"  Gorm  !  Andy  done  that?  You  don't  tell 
me !  Well,  I  be  gorm  !  " 

"  He  most  undoubtedly  has  done  that." 

Ony  sputtered  the  chewed  splinter  from  his 
mouth. 

"  I  be  gorm  !  " 

Then  he  carefully  picked  a  fragment  of  the 
wood  from  his  inner  lip,  and  added  reflec- 
tively : 

"  Oom,  well,  sir,  I  dunno  as  I  oughter  be  so 
much  s'prised  at  Andy.  That  air  chap  is  jus' 
got  the  gumption  of  all  out-o'-doors ;  an'  there 
wan't  no  tellin'  what  he  'd  be  up  to  when  he 
made  that  las'  turn  in  them  phosphate  lands  he 
was  projickin'  with.  Oom,  by  gorm  !  " 

"  I  drove  immediately  to  Feme  Run,"  said 
James  York  Torrance,  after  having  related 
this  incident  to  Victoria  that  night,  "and  I 
made  it  a  point  to  accost  several  of  my 
acquaintances  and  mention  this  matter  of  Out- 
cault's  action ;  but  I  found  that  none  of  them 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  231 

had  heard  of  it.  That  meant,  I  judged,  that 
he  had  chosen  to  keep  it  to  himself ;  for  un- 
questionably if  it  had  been  divulged  the  village 
would  have  been  agog  over  it.  Later  I  met 
Outcault  himself  and  taxed  him  with  hiding 
his  light  under  a  bushel ;  to  which  he  replied 
that,  regarding  it  as  much  my  affair  as  his, 
he  had  left  it  entirely  with  me.  It  is  not 
necessary  for  me  to  say  that  I  shall  take  ade- 
quate steps  to  give  it  full  publicity.  The  fel- 
low evidently  has  some  of  the  promptings  of 
the  well-bred.  What  puzzles  me  is  where  he 
got  them." 

"  But  birth  is  not  necessarily  everything." 
Victoria  replied,  not  because  she  seemed  dis- 
posed to  insist  upon  that  view  of  the  subject, 
or  upon  any  view  of  it,  but  rather  because 
her  father  had  evidently  expected  her  to  say 
something. 

"It  is  virtually  everything,  so  far  as  one's 
real  nature  is  concerned.  There  is  no  man  of 
innate  honor  who  was  not  born  such." 

"  But  must  every  man  of  honor  have  had  a 
like  parentage?  " 

"Like  begets  like.  It  is  a  rule  to  which 
there  is  the  rarest  exception.  You  cannot 
gather  figs  from  thistles,  though,"  his  face 


23 1  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

hardening  a  little  at  thought  of  his  own  son, 
"  we  sometimes  gather  thistles  from  figs." 

"  Does  it  not  seem,"  asked  Victoria,  without 
noting  the  personal  deflection  of  his  words, 
"  that  if  there  are  exceptions  to  the  rule  in 
one  direction  there  may  be  exceptions  in  the 
other?" 

"  Granted  that  Outcault  may  be  an  excep- 
tion, I  fear  that  in  a  certain  sense  he  will  be 
the  unhappier  for  that  reason.  Materially  he 
has  achieved  some  success.  Material  success, 
in  an  age  of  growing  materialism,  will  un- 
doubtedly open  the  way  to  him  —  to  a  certain 
point,  but  only  to  a  certain  point.  For  ex- 
ample, he  appears  to  have  social  aspirations. 
That  being  the  case,  the  —  the  elements  of 
our  society  to  which  his  worldly  accomplish- 
ments will  give  him  entrance  will  not  satisfy 
him ;  but  what  except  disappointment  can 
await  him  when  he  seeks  admission  on  terms 
of  intimacy  to  the  homes  of  such  families  as 
—  as  the  Brookfields,  the  Fordyces,  and  the 
Femes  —  who  really  constitute  our  society  as 
the  uncorrupted  representatives  of  the  'Old 
South ; '  a  term  which  has  been  forced  upon 
us  in  these  latter  days  in  contradistinguish- 
ment  of  the  true  South  from  the  crass  en- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  233 

croachments  of  the  vulgarity  and  superficiality, 
the  thrifty  lust,  the  grovelling  strife,  the  fever- 
ish, elbowing,  down-trampling,  uprooting  activ- 
ity of  what  blares  itself  as  the  '  New  South '  ? 
The  New  South  may  batter  down  every  barrier 
of  the  Old  South  except  that  which  guards  its 
social  existence.  That  is  impregnable  to  any 
bludgeon  of  a  weapon  which  the  New  South 
can  command." 

It  was  a  subject  upon  which  he  had  moral- 
ized repeatedly,  and  Victoria  turned  to  a  news- 
paper which  she  held. 

"  Here  is  a  leader  in  The  Doctrinaire"  she 
said,  "on  the  'Delimitation  of  State  Sover- 
eignty and  Constitutional  Federalism.'  Would 
you  like  me  to  read  it?" 

"  By  all  means.  I  do  not  wish  to  miss  any- 
thing The  Doctrinaire  says  on  that  theme. 
Poor  Prendergast  !  He  is  getting  very  old 
now,  and  his  pen  is  not  what  it  once  was,  but 
he  is  one  of  the  few,  the  very  few,  who  still 
interpret  the  present  and  the  future  by  the 
light  which  the  Fathers  of  the  Republic  lit. 
Read  it,  Victoria." 


234  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XXI 

ON  one  of  the  last  afternoons  of  that  autumn 
James  York  Torrance  drove  homeward  from 
Feme  Run  along  Torrance  Avenue.  The  sun 
had  disappeared  behind  a  low  rim  of  slate,  of 
the  grime  and  heaviness  of  the  soft-coal  smoke 
that  hangs  over  a  region  of  factories.  The 
dusk  of  the  short  day  was  rapidly  deepening, 
and  lights  were  already  shining  hazily  through 
the  windows  of  the  straggling  houses.  The 
long  avenue  was  covered  with  the  dead  leaves 
of  the  trees  that  lined  it,  and  Mr.  Torrance's 
horse  trotted  over  the  rustling  carpet  with  the 
regular  stride  that  had  been  familiar  for  many 
years  to  the  inhabitants  of  those  straggling 
houses.  Here  and  there  were  great  oaks  to 
which  the  brown  foliage  still  clung ;  and  occa- 
sionally one  of  these  stirred  faintly  with  a 
shivering  premonition  of  the  oncoming  winter. 
A  spectator,  with  a  little  imagination,  behold- 
ing the  rigid  figure,  the  frosty  hair,  the  ice- 
chiselled  face  of  the  man  sitting  behind  the 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  235 

aged  roadster,  might  have  said  that  the  winter 
had  already  come. 

The  appearance  of  James  York  Torrance  was 
even  more  wintry  than  usual.  He  had  that 
day  been  defeated  in  an  action  at  law  which 
he  had  brought  to  enjoin  the  construction  of  a 
factory  on  Torrance  Avenue,  near  The  Mounds. 
For  several  weeks  he  had  made  a  stubborn 
fight  against  this  "  modern  "  encroachment 
upon  the  pastoral  retirement  of  the  old  estate 
which  was  his  home.  In  his  unbending  way  he 
had  at  first  expostulated  with  the  projectors  of 
the  enterprise,  and  had  then  proposed  to  buy 
and  present  them  another  site  on  the  other  side 
of  town.  But  such  efforts  being  unavailing,  and 
the  excavations  for  the  cellar  and  foundations 
actually  having  begun,  he  had  resorted  to  the 
courts.  To-day  his  suit  had  been  decided 
against  him,  and  to-morrow  work  on  the  factory 
would  probably  be  resumed. 

As  he  approached  the  eyesore  he  pulled  his 
horse  from  the  road  and  drew  rein  at  the  side 
of  the  excavation,  sitting  for  a  few  seconds  in 
grim  contemplation  of  what  he  had  tried  to 
prevent. 

Looking  now  upon  the  unseemly  hole,  his 
eyes  clou.ded  and  his  mouth  faltered. 


236  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  I  am  beaten,"  he  said  aloud,  and  he  turned 
away  and  shook  up  his  horse. 

But,  with  his  poor  vision  and  in  the  fading 
light,  he  had  driven  nearer  the  excavation  than 
he  had  known,  and  its  edge  crumbling  under 
the  horse's  feet,  the  struggling  animal,  the 
buggy,  and  the  driver  fell  in  a  heap  to  the 
bottom,  eight  or  ten  feet  below. 

James  York  Torrance  was  found  there  un- 
conscious, less  than  a  minute  later,  by  Arthur 
Feme,  who  was  riding  by  on  his  way  home 
from  The  Mounds. 

That  night,  as  the  old  gentleman  lay  on  his 
bed,  having  been  told  by  the  doctor  that  death 
was  inevitable  and  near,  there  was  the  calm  of 
a  last  content  upon  his  worn,  beautiful  face. 
Miss  Juliana  and  Clara  were  sniffling  in  a  cor- 
ner of  the  room,  and  Victoria,  still  and  white 
almost  as  the  dying  man,  but  tearless  and 
speechless,  sat  by  the  bedside. 

He  had  just  said  good-bye,  gently  and 
affectionately,  to  Bev,  who  had  left  the  room 
with  bent  form  and  streaming  eyes.  Vic- 
toria, after  a  little,  leaned  closer  and  asked 
softly : 

"  Is  there  no  one  else,  father,  you  would  like 
to  see  ? " 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  237 

His  lids  drooped  wearily  and  he  shook  his 
head  in  the  negative. 

"  No  one,"  he  answered  weakly.  "  It  is  not 
worth  while,  now." 

Victoria  hesitated,  and  then  added,  with 
anxious  resolution : 

"  But  Lee,  father :  will  you  not  see  him  ?  He 
is  here  and  wishes  me  to  ask  you  if  you  will  not 
speak  to  him." 

It  was  the  first  time  since  his  marriage  that 
she  had  ventured  to  mention  Lee's  name  to 
Mr.  Torrance. 

The  dimming  eyes  opened  and  fixed  them- 
selves upon  Victoria.  The  hand  lying  at  his 
side  waved  feebly  in  dissent. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  say,"  he  answered,  and 
again  closed  his  eyes. 

In  a  few  minutes,  his  eyes  still  closed,  he 
spoke  again.  "  Arthur  Feme,"  he  murmured  : 
"  did  I  not  see  him  here  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Victoria  replied ;  "  he  was  the  first 
to  reach  you ;  he  helped  to  bring  you  home." 

"  Ask  him  to  come  in,  if  he  is  still 
here." 

Victoria  left  the  room,  and  almost  imme- 
diately Feme  entered.  Victoria  did  not  return 
with  him. 


238  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

There  was  a  touch  of  fondness  in  the  look 
which  the  old  man  gave  the  younger. 

"  I  wanted  to  thank  you,  Arthur,  and  to  say 
good-bye." 

Feme  took  the  open  hand  which  crept  along 
the  bed  toward  him.  His  eyes  swam  and 
speech  choked  him. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Torrance,"  he  said  brokenly, 
"  perhaps  it  is  not  so  bad  as  the  doctor 
fears." 

"  It  is  not  bad,  Arthur,"  he  answered,  with 
his  rare,  sweet  smile  —  the  last  that  was  ever 
to  transfigure  his  face  ;  "  it  is  well.  My  day 
was  done  long  ago.  You  see  they  are  cut- 
ting the  very  ground  from  the  feet  of  us  lin- 
gering remnants  of  the  Old  Regime.  You  are 
young,  Arthur,  but  you  are  one  of  us,  and  I  am 
sorrier  for  you,  because  of  your  youth  and  the 
odds  against  you,  than  you  should  be  for  me, 
for  whom  the  fight  is  over.  Good-bye;  and 
now  — "  his  eyes  closed  once  more  and  he 
turned  his  face  as  if  to  sleep  —  "  now  send  me 
Victoria." 

Feme  went  out  and  Victoria  hurried  back, 
her  features  drawn  pathetically.  She  was  no 
longer  able  to  hold  herself  in  restraint,  and 
falling  to  her  knees  by  her  father's  side,  she 


Red  BJood  and  Blue  239 

buried  her  face  in  his  pillow,  with  a  sob  of 
agony. 

For  the  last  time  James  York  Torrance 
opened  and  shut  his  eyes,  his  hand  finding  and 
resting  upon  the  bowed  head  of  Victoria,  where 
it  remained  until  it  was  no  longer  the  hand  of 
the  living. 

And  thus  left  the  world  one  who,  though  he 
had  long  been  in  it,  had,  as  the  world  had  come 
to  be  in  his  later  years,  never  been  of  it. 


240  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XXII 

THE  winter  had  passed,  and  spring  was  peep- 
ing from  behind  the  southern  walls  and  slopes. 

Arthur  Feme,  returning  after  a  month's 
absence  in  Florida,  rode  over  the  little  railroad, 
just  completed,  between  Mavistoc  and  Feme 
Run.  The  innovation  was  welcome  to  him 
now,  for  he  was  impatient  to  reach  home.  He 
had  cut  short  his  stay  in  Florida  because  it  had 
broken  over  him  there  that  he  had  waited  long 
enough  to  know  what  life  held  for  him ;  that 
the  time  had  come  when,  from  out  the  hover- 
ing cloud  of  the  devotee's  adoration  with  which 
he  had  invested  Victoria  Torrance  as  with  a 
nimbus,  he  should  speak  as  a  man,  as  well  as 
devotee,  to  the  woman,  as  well  as  the  divinity. 

Hitherto  that  time,  always  looked  forward 
to  as  the  crisis  of  his  destiny,  had  ever  seemed 
indefinitely  remote.  In  the  days  of  his  boy- 
hood it  had  been  far  in  that  vast,  vague  state 
that  ever  is  to  be,  yet  never  is,  which  youth 
dreams  of  as  life.  Later,  in  his  early  manhood, 
he  had  felt  that  Victoria  was  too  young,  too 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  24 1 

exhilarated  with  the  joyous  freedom,  the  evan- 
escent ideals,  the  crowding  sensations,  mys- 
teries, wonder,  of  girlhood,  to  stop  to  listen  to 
the  crude  and  selfish  prayer  of  man's  love. 
Later  still,  as  time  matured  all  the  promises 
of  her  youth  and  developed  new  strength  and 
sweetness  in  her  character,  she  had  seemed 
so  infinitely  above  him  that  he  was  despondent 
in  his  unworthiness,  and  dared  not  speak  be- 
cause he  dared  not  lose  her.  During  the  last 
year  her  entire  consecration  to  her  father,  and 
after  his  death  the  acuteness  of  her  grief, 
had  been  additional  injunctions  upon  Feme's 
silence. 

But  there  was  now  no  reason,  except  such 
as  would  always  exist,  why  he  should  not  break 
that  silence.  He  would  always  be  unworthy 
of  her;  but  what  man  was  worthy  of  her? 
Feme  could  never  have  loved  any  woman 
whom  he  did  not  believe  above  him.  To 
hold  that  a  man,  because  of  such  a  belief  in  a 
woman's  superiority,  should  refrain  from  ask- 
ing her  in  marriage,  would  have  been,  in 
Feme's  philosophy,  to  hold  that  the  love  of 
man  for  woman  is  not  justification  upon  which 
he  must  find  a  wife. 

It  was  a  soft  night  in  March  when  Feme 

16 


242  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

rode  out  to  The  Mounds  through  the  golden 
mist  of  the  moonlight  and  the  pink  drifts  of 
the  peach  orchards.  When  he  rode  back  it 
was  through  chill  darkness,  a  wind  that  split 
the  peach-trees  to  the  ground  and  a  rain  that 
pelted  their  blossoms  into  the  mire.  The  hand- 
somest horseman  of  Feme  Run  sat  slouched  in 
his  saddle,  the  sharp  spears  of  the  rain  strik- 
ing upon  his  white  face  with  never  a  flinch  of 
his  eyelids.  He  had  asked  and  been  answered 
the  question  which  his  heart  had  nurtured 
almost  since  it  began  beating;  and  but  for 
one  feeble  ray,  not  of  hope,  but  of  possibility, 
which  Victoria's  words  had  left  him,  there  was 
nothing  but  the  barrenness  of  death-in-life  to 
which  the  future  now  condemned  him. 

"  Oh,  no,  no ! "  Victoria  had  cried  with  a 
vehemence  that  Feme  did  not  understand. 
"  Don't  speak  of  it  now !  Not  now !  Not 
now!  I  wish  it  were  different.  I  wish  I 
could  give  you  all  you  ask.  But  I  could  never 
give  you  all  you  deserve.  As  I  know  you, 
Arthur,  you  are  all  that  a  man  should  be; 
all  that  no  other  man  that  I  know  is.  Any 
woman  would  be  honored  by  such  a  love  as 
yours.  I  am  proud  of  it,  and  yet  pained  by  it 
because  I  have  nothing  like  it  to  give  you  — 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  243 

because  I  am  not,  I  can  never  be,  worthy  of 
such  a  love.  If  I  could  single  out  from  all 
men  one  to  whom  of  my  own  will  to  turn  my 
heart,  it  would  be  you ;  and  you  were  — " 
She  was  on  the  point  of  adding  that  he  had 
been  her  father's  ideal  of  manhood;  but  she 
checked  herself.  "  I  can  promise  you  nothing. 
I  can  only  pray  —  I  shall  pray  —  that  the  feel- 
ing for  you  which  I  lack  now,  will  yet  come  to 
me.  But,  frankly,  I  do  not  expect  it;  and 
neither  must  you." 


244  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XXIII 

IT  was  the  next  month  that  the  Congress  of  the 
United  States  made  the  demands  upon  Spain 
that  were  quickly  followed  by  war.  The  Presi- 
dent's call  for  volunteers  met  an  eager  re- 
sponse in  Tennessee,  as  elsewhere.  To  Feme 
such  an  opportunity  for  active  military  service 
was  peculiarly  welcome  at  this  time.  It  offered 
him  at  least  a  physical  outlet  from  the  torpor 
into  which  his  interview  with  Victoria  Tor- 
ranee  had  sunk  him ;  and  to  one  of  his  imagi- 
nation there  were  in  a  campaign  at  the  front 
even  possibilities  of  developments  that  might 
bring  to  his  aid  something  which  was  now 
wanting  in  his  appeal  to  Victoria.  His  family 
connections  had  influence  at  Washington,  and 
through  this  he  secured  a  second  lieutenant's 
commission,  leaving  at  once  on  his  assignment. 
Outcault,  in  the  splendor  of  his  youth  and 
health,  this  note  of  war  thrilled  with  that 
which  ever  made  the  old  Northmen  of  his 
race  superb  in  conflict,  whether  in  rage  for 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  245 

mere  battle's  sake,  or  in  onslaught  for  the 
sake  of  cause  and  kind.  Outcault  dropped, 
where  he  stood,  his  work  of  money-getting  and 
"  developing  the  country."  So  much  of  it  as 
Lee  Torrance  could  do  was  turned  over  to  that 
ardent  disciple  of  Outcault's.  The  rest  was 
allowed  to  wait  or  to  rot,  as  time  might  prove. 
It  was  all  clod  to  him  now,  over  which  he 
walked  to  the  newer  and  stronger  music  that 
had  struck  for  him. 

He  did  not  join  any  of  the  companies  of 
Tennessee  militia,  as  the  Feme  Run  boys 
did ;  but,  being  moved  solely  by  the  desire  to 
get  where  there  was  righting  to  be  done,  and 
to  get  there  at  the  earliest  moment,  and  believ- 
ing, from  some  correspondence  with  a  former 
schoolmate,  who  was  an  officer  in  a  Northern 
volunteer  regiment,  that  it  would  be  among 
the  first  to  be  sent  to  Cuba,  Outcault  deter- 
mined to  seek  service  as  a  private  under 
him. 

One  of  the  last  things,  and  the  main  thing, 
he  set  himself  to  do  before  leaving,  was  to  see 
Victoria  Torrance.  He  had  hardly  laid  eyes 
on  her  since  her  return  from  West  Tennessee. 
Following  her  father's  death  her  winter  had 
been  one  of  comparative  seclusion,  and  as 


246  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Outcault  was  away  from  home  most  of  the  time 
he  had  not  even  been  thrown  with  her  on  any 
of  her  brief  visits  to  Lee  and  Janet. 

It  was  after  one  of  these  visits  of  hers  that 
Outcault,  returning  to  Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton's 
on  an  April  afternoon,  came  upon  Victoria,  as 
she  was  about  driving  off.  He  went  up  to  her, 
lifting  his  hat,  with  a  conventional  greeting, 
and  she,  after  an  instant  of  hesitation  almost 
too  fleeting  to  be  noticed,  held  out  her  hand  to 
him. 

There  was  a  brief  exchange  of  those  trifles 
found  so  convenient  by  people  who  have 
nothing  to  say  to  each  other,  or  who  have 
more  to  say  than  they  choose  to  say  at  the 
time. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  met  you  this  afternoon," 
Outcault  declared,  as  Victoria  gathered  up  the 
reins  to  drive  on.  "  I  am  leaving  this  week,  I 
hope  on  my  way  to  Cuba,  and  I  wanted  to  see 
you  before  going,  and  ask  your  good  wishes." 

"  You  have  them  without  asking,"  she  smiled. 

"  Then  I  shall  find  you  at  home  to-night,  or 
to-morrow?" 

For  two  seconds  her  eyes  seemed  to  study 
some  point  straight  ahead  of  her.  Then  she 
turned  them,  clear  and  frank,  upon  Outcault. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  247 

"  I  shall  be  at  home  either  to-night  or  to- 
morrow," she  answered. 

"  Then  let  it  be  to-night." 

And  thus,  at  last,  was  arranged  Andrew 
Outcault's  formal  call  at  The  Mounds. 

During  the  first  half  hour  of  that  call  a 
casual  onlooker  would  have  inferred  that  it 
was  much  more  pleasurable  to  the  girl  than  to 
the  man.  Victoria  chatted  easily  and  brightly 
of  things  in  which  Outcault  must  necessarily 
be  interested  —  the  preparations  for  the  war, 
Feme  Run's  contributions  to  the  State  militia, 
the  blockade  of  Cuba  which  had  just  been 
declared,  Outcault's  own  plans  for  participating 
in  the  drama  that  was  so  stirring  the  country. 
But  Outcault  appeared  under  an  ill-borne  re- 
straint. His  part  in  the  talk  was  disjointed 
and  sometimes  distant.  His  mind  evidently 
lapsed  or  overleaped  to  something  that  was 
stronger  to  hold  it  than  was  any  subject  on 
which  Victoria  touched. 

Suddenly  he  changed  his  seat  to  a  chair 
nearer  Victoria;  and  leaning  forward,  a  little 
awkwardly,  but  with  tremendous  earnestness, 
said  : 

"  Miss  Torrance,  I  must  appear  very  abrupt 
• —  perhaps  I  should  be  less  so  if  I  were  not 


248  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

going  away  so  soon — but  I  could  not  go,  or 
would  not,  without  telling  you,  what  I  have 
always  wanted  to  tell  you  some  time,  that  the 
one  great  thing  in  my  life  has  been  my  love  for 
you,  and  that  my  one  great  hope  is  that  some 
day  it  will  not  be  unwelcome  to  you  —  " 

"  Stop  !  stop !  you  must  not !  I  cannot 
permit  you  to  speak  of  such  things !  " 

She  threw  up  her  hand  as  if  to  ward  off  his 
words,  her  face  flashing  with  command. 

Outcault's  pause  was  very  brief.  His  tone 
was  perhaps  calmer  as  he  went  on. 

"  I  must  speak  of  them,  and  now.  There 
is  a  possibility  that  I  may  not  have  another 
opportunity." 

"  Then  I  will  not  listen  !  " 

She  rose,  and  Outcault  also  stood. 

"To  listen  is  the  least  you  can  do,  Miss 
Torrance,"  he  said  firmly  ;  "  and  that  I  shall 
insist  upon  your  doing." 

"  You  will  force  me  to  the  rudeness  of  leav- 
ing the  room." 

She  took  a  step  toward  the  door,  but  she 
seemed  to  be  restrained  by  the  more  resolute 
step  of  Outcault  following  her. 

"  And  you  will  force  me  to  the  greater  rude- 
ness of  detaining  you,"  he  interposed. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  249 

He  was  now  between  her  and  the  door. 
Their  eyes  met  for  a  second,  and  hers  were  the 
first  to  fall. 

"  As  you  will,"  she  answered,  signifying  her 
submission  with  a  slight  shrug ;  "  please  be 
brief." 

He  drew  a  chair  to  her  and  she  sat  down. 
He  continued  to  stand. 

"  It  is  not  so  much,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  rough 
from  the  feeling  with  which  it  was  charged, 
"  when  a  man  who  has  loved  a  woman  ever 
since  he  can  remember,  who  has  given  her 
every  thought  and  every  hope,  and  who  has 
asked  of  her  as  yet  nothing  in  return,  takes  a 
few  minutes  of  her  time  in  which  to  reveal 
himself  to  her,  still  asking  of  her  nothing  ex- 
cept that  she  shall  see  him  as  he  is." 

He  waited  a  second,  as  if  for  some  word  or 
sign  from  her ;  but  she  gave  none,  as  she  sat 
in  silence,  even  her  eyes  concealed  from  him  by 
downcast  lids. 

"  As  I  have  said,  I  have  loved  you  ever  since 
I  can  remember;  and  yet  I  have  never  loved 
you  for  a  moment  when  I  did  not  know  that 
there  were  strong  barriers  between  us.  At 
first  I  did  not  understand  clearly  what  they 
were ;  but  neither  then  nor  later,  when  I  un- 


250  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

derstood  them  fully,  did  I  ever  waver  in  my  de- 
termination to  beat  them  down  or  break  over 
them.  I  knew  that  I  did  not  place  them  there, 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  not  be 
denied  the  best  there  was  in  life  because  of 
the  acts  of  others,  or  the  prejudices  of  caste, 
for  none  of  which  I  was  responsible.  I  call 
them  barriers.  God  knows  they  are.  The 
world — your  world  —  considers  them  impreg- 
nable. But,  faugh !  they  are  trifles,  they  are 
nothing,  to  stay  a  love  which  can  no  more  be 
checked  or  killed  by  them  than  it  was  created 
by  them." 

She  gave  him  a  swift  glance  of  depreca- 
tion. "Why  refer  to  these  things?"  she 
protested. 

"  Why  ?  Because  I  want  you  to  know  me, 
not  as  others  may  know,  but  as  I  know  myself. 
Because  I  want  you  to  know  yourself  better 
than  you  do  yet.  Shall  I  tell  you  what  I  know 
of  you  ?  Oh,  do  not  object,"  as  she  made  a 
motion  of  demurrer.  "  It  is  necessary  in  order 
that  you  may  know  me.  You  have  a  mind  of 
your  own,  and  you  use  it.  Some  day  you  will 
discover  you  have  a  heart  of  your  own,  and 
until  that  day  I  shall  know  you  better,  per- 
haps, than  you  know  yourself.  You  are.  honest, 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  251 

independent,  brave,  but  you  are  hedged  more 
or  less  by  influences  against  which  you  have 
never  yet  found  it  necessary  to  assert  yourself. 
Pride  of  family,  advantage  of  position,  class 
distinctions  are  still  potent  with  you,  though 
even  now  they  would  not  be  omnipotent  with 
you.  But  what  I  have  called  the  barriers  be- 
tween you  and  myself  would  be  regarded  by 
you,  at  present,  as  almost  too  formidable  to 
be  assailed." 

"  Surely  there  is  no  occasion  to  discuss  my- 
self in  what  you  have  to  say." 

"  There  is  —  to  show  you  that  I  realize  that 
among  the  barriers  between  us  one  of  the 
strongest  is  yourself.  All  these  years,  when 
I  longed  to  speak,  yet  had  no  right  to  speak 
—  when  I  even  had  no  right  to  seek  your 
society  as  other  men  did  — " 

He  was  impelled  to  tell  her  of  his  distant 
worship  of  her  through  his  boyhood  and  young 
manhood,  of  the  inspiration  it  had  been  to 
him,  of  the  struggle  which  it  had  moved  him 
to  make,  of  the  difficulties  it  had  helped  him  to 
defy  and  overcome ;  but  he  abruptly  repressed 
the  impulse. 

"  No !  I  will  not  impose  upon  you  now  my 
past.  You  would  hardly  look  upon  it  as  less 


252  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

than  impertinent.  I  know  it  is  too  soon  to 
speak  to  you  of  myself  at  all  yet;  but,  if  I 
should  not  come  back,  I  wanted  you  to  know 
that  my  life  had  been  wholly  yours,  though  it 
may  have  been  nothing  to  you  ;  while  if  I  do 
come  back,  as  I  most  likely  shall,  all  the  obsta- 
cles which  the  world,  or  which  you,  would  in- 
terpose between  us " —  he  paused,  his  hand 
closing  in  a  powerful  grip,  as  if  to  crush  so 
much  straw,  his  head  lifting  a  little  and  a 
smile  touching  his  strong  face  —  "  shall  be  as 
nothing." 

Victoria,  who  had  been  sitting  with  face  that 
told  nothing  except  serious  attention,  and  eyes 
that  contemplated  steadfastly  the  hands  folded 
in  her  lap,  looked  up,  after  a  moment  of  Out- 
cault's  silence,  seemingly  in  inquiry  if  he  had 
finished. 

"  I  do  not  ask  any  reply  to  what  I  have 
said,"  Outcault  went  on.  "  I  know  that  you 
can  give  me  no  answer  now  that  I  want.  All 
that  I  do  ask  of  you  is  that  you  forgive  me 
for  having  made  an  unwilling  listener  of  you 
this  evening,  and  —  will  you  say  good-bye  to 
me  ? " 

He  extended  his  hand,  without  yet  approach- 
ing any  nearer. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  253 

She  showed  no  hesitation,  or  displeasure,  as 
she  rose  from  her  chair. 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Outcault,"  offering  him  her 
hand.  "  I  hope  the  war  will  be  short,  and 
that  you  will  go  safely  through  it." 

"Thank  you." 

He  released  her  hand  and  fell  back  a  step, 
but  did  not  yet  leave.  They  stood  facing  each 
other,  he  as  if  suspending  some  speech,  she 
waiting. 

"  Won't  you  add,"  he  asked,  "  that  you  hope 
I  shall  soon  return  ? " 

"  I  do  hope  you  will  soon  return,  Mr.  Out- 
cault." 

She  spoke  sincerely,  yet  not  unconven- 
tionally. 

"  Then  I  shall ;  I  know  I  shall,  though  I  pass 
through  a  hundred  battles  !  " 

Outcault's  voice  was  not  above  its  usual  pitch, 
but  there  was  that  in  it  which  might  have  been 
there  if  he  were  already  announcing  himself 
triumphant  after  more  than  a  hundred  battles. 

Victoria  felt  it  and  started,  as  though  the 
sensation  were  from  some  physical  force.  She 
caught  her  breath  and  quickly  enjoined  : 

"But  not  to  renew  the  subject  you  have 
spoken  of  to-night.  You  are  never  to  do  that. 


254  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

What  you  wish  of  me  is — will  always  be  —  an 
absolute  impossibility." 

Outcault  did  not  flinch  at  this.  He  had 
the  manner  of  one  who  was  eking  out  pre- 
cious time  for  a  last  look  at  the  girl  from  whom 
he  was  parting,  rather  than  of  one  who  attached 
much  significance  to  what  was  now  said  or 
left  unsaid. 

He  smiled  as  his  eyes  lingered  on  her,  and 
then  replied,  with  a  calmness  that  was  expres- 
sive more  of  conviction  than  of  assurance : 

"  If  you  understood  a  man's  love  you  would 
know  that,  against  it,  there  is  no  impossibility." 

He  bowed,  and  was  gone ;  and  Victoria, 
turning  from  the  doorway  through  which  Out- 
cault had  passed,  was  confronted  by  the  patri- 
cian face  of  her  father,  looking  down  upon  her 
coldly  from  the  new  portrait  which  had  recently 
been  added  to  the  series  of  James  York  Tor- 
ranees.  And  as  she  stood  before  it  she  was 
breathing  more  rapidly,  and  a  mist  upon  her 
eyes  blurred  the  passionately  loved  features, 
whose  every  sensitive  index  of  repose  and 
change  she  had  all  her  life  so  solicitously 
studied. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  257 

and  came  down  here  to  find  you;  and  just  as 
we  reached  this  point  you  appeared  at  the  other 
end  of  the  opening  yonder,  walking  toward  us, 
with  your  hat  in  your  hand  ;  and  if  I  had  been 
a  man  I  'm  sure  I  'd  have  gone  down  on  my 
very  knees;  and  Arthur,  he  seemed  afraid 
to  breathe  at  first,  and  then  he  quoted  such 
pretty  verses  that  I  made  him  write  them  out 
for  me  afterward,  so  that  I  could  memorize 
them: 

'"At  times  a  fragrant  breeze  comes  floating  by, 
And  brings,  you  know  not  why, 
A  feeling  as  when  eager  crowds  await 
Before  a  palace  gate 

" '  Some  wondrous  pageant ;  and  you  scarce  would  start, 
If,  from  a  beech's  heart, 

A  blue-eyed  Dryad,  stepping  forth,  should  say, 
"  Behold  me  !     I  am  May." ' 

"  What  charming  poems  Arthur  Feme  knows," 
Rosalie  went  on  without  a  pause.  "  Don't  you 
think  so?  Of  course  he  has  repeated  many  of 
them  to  you." 

"  No ;  but  I  hav£  read  that  one  in  a  book 
which  he  gave  me.  It  is  beautiful." 

"  Beautiful!  Everything  Arthur  Feme  likes, 
or  does,  is  beautiful.  He  has  the  most  beau- 
tiful mind  of  any  man  I  know,  and  the  most 
17 


258  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

beautiful  ideas  about  women.  Don't  you 
think  so?" 

"  Yes ;  I  have  always  thought  so,"  Victoria 
replied  softly. 

"And  he  is  so  fair  where  other  men  are 
concerned.  The  other  day  such  an  unfortu- 
nate thing  happened.  Andrew  Outcault  and 
I  were  sitting  in  the  summer-house.  We  did 
not  notice  Arthur  Feme  and  Teddy  Picker- 
ing come  through  the  gate  and  up  the 
walk,  until  they  were  almost  right  on  us. 
They  did  not  notice  us  at  all;  and  as  they 
passed  by  they  were  talking  —  just  think  of 
it! — about  Andrew  Outcault  himself!  We 
heard  Teddy  say  that  people  were  saying  that 
Andrew  paid  those  —  those  debts  of  his  father 
—  simply  because  he  wanted  to  make  you 
think  well  of  him,  and  — " 

"  Oh,  Rosalie !  why  do  you  listen  to  such 
nonsense  ?  "  Victoria  protested. 

"  And  Arthur  immediately  flared  up  and  said 
that  people  were  impertinent  and  silly ;  that 
they  had  no  right,  and  Teddy  had  no  right,  to 
use  your  name  in  any  such  connection ;  and 
that  as  for  Andrew  Outcault,  he  was  an  honor- 
able man  and  would  have  paid  that  money  if 
there  had  not  been  a  woman  in  the  world.  I 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  259 

wish  you  could  have  seen  Andrew  Outcault's 
face,  Victoria.  It  turned  so  pale  and  he 
looked  so  —  so  funny  that  I  almost  cried  for 
him.  But  when  Arthur  and  Teddy  had  gone 
on  into  the  house  and  I  got  up  to  follow  them 
and  asked  Mr.  Outcault  if  he  would  come  too, 
he  laughed  in  such  a  queer  manner  and  said 
that  he  would  not  run  away,  and  that  he  wanted 
to  shake  the  hand  of  the  finest  gentleman  he 
knew,  meaning  Arthur  Feme,  of  course ;  and 
he  went  on  in  the  house  with  me  and  talked 
with  us  a  while  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
But  was  n't  it  awkward,  and  are  n't  some  people 
mean  ? " 

"Let  us  go  back,"  said  Victoria,  absently 
lifting  her  hand  to  draw  about  her  shoulders  a 
wrap  which  she  had  not  brought ;  "  it  is  damp 
and  chilly  here." 


160  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XXV 

BEFORE  Santiago  de  Cuba  that  last  night  in 
June  two  men  were  thinking  of  Victoria  Tor- 
ranee. 

It  was  understood  that  the  morning  would 
bring  battle,  unless  the  enemy  declined  it. 
There  were  some  who  feared  that  he  would 
make  little  or  no  resistance ;  but  whether  he 
fought  or  fled,  there  were  few  in  the  jaded  yet 
impatient  ranks  of  the  Americans  that 'night 
who  did  not  expect  to  raise  the  flag  in  San- 
tiago before  their  three  days'  rations  were 
exhausted. 

Reveille  at  daylight  of  the  first  of  July  awoke 
to  electric  life  every  fibre  in  Andrew  Outcault's 
tired  body,  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet  with 
kindling  color. 

The  march  began  in  the  early  morning. 
Another  time  its  beauty  might  have  impressed 
Outcault :  the  beauty  of  wooded  hills  that  rose 
and  fell  in  this  spreading  trough  between  the 
mountains;  the  beauty  of  stretches  of  lush 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  261 

forest,  of  drifts  of  rank  jungle,  —  a  vista  of 
tropical  opulence  and  pastoral  peace. 

But  Outcault  was  insensible  to  it  now, 
except  as  so  much  obstruction  that  must  be 
passed  before  the  clash  of  conflict  could  come ; 
and  through  it  he  trod  with  the  regular  step  of 
the  column.  It  was  a  step  to  which,  at  first,  in 
its  determined  advance,  Outcault  was  tensely 
keyed ;  but  later,  as  the  trail  through  the  wild 
seemed  unending,  the  progress  was  so  slow  that 
the  "  cadence  "  of  the  column  became  a  chafing 
restraint,  from  which  he  did  not  find  relief  until, 
his  company  deploying  through  the  chaparral, 
the  lines  were  broken,  and  Outcault  kept  step 
only  to  his  own  desires. 

It  was  before  this,  however,  and  soon  after  the 
march  began,  that,  to  the  rear  and  the  right, 
there  was  a  boom  whose  reverberation  among 
the  hills  was  caught  up  by  the  moving  column, 
along  which  it  rolled  in  a  murmurous  wave 
until  it  burst  about  Outcault  in  a  jubilant 
shout,  as  an  incoming  tide  rises  and  explodes 
on  the  breakers'  comb.  It  was  the  first  gun 
of  Capron's  battery  trained  upon  Caney,  and 
to  Outcault  it  was  the  first  full  note  of  the 
heroic  drama  to  which  all  else  had  been  the 
prelude. 


262  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

It  was  not  long  before  the  throb  of  Capron's 
sonorous  music  found  antiphonal  response, 
nearer,  fiercer,  from  the  throats  of  Grimes'  guns 
on  the  knoll  of  El  Poso,  ahead  and  to  the  left, 
as  they  opened  on  the  redouts  of  Santiago. 
And  after  that  began  to  sound  the  sibilant  reeds 
and  singing  strings  of  the  orchestra  which  now 
filled  the  great  auditorium  of  the  valley ;  for 
the  air  was  whipped  with  whispers  that  were 
not  of  the  summer  leaves,  with  buzzing  that 
was  not  of  the  summer  insects,  as  the  Spanish 
bullets  sped  from  trench  and  bush.  For  a  time 
Outcault  was  so  near  El  Poso  that,  wide  and 
distinct  above  all  else,  could  be  heard,  after  the 
roar  of  the  artillery,  the  resistless  sweep  of 
the  missile's  flight;  and  it  was  as  the  sweep 
of  the  wing  of  the  Death  Angel  athwart  the 
valley.  But  to  Outcault  now  the  Angel  of 
Death  and  the  Angel  of  Life  were  one,  and 
all-glorious. 

Soon  strange  visions  began  to  come  over 
the  road:  men  hobbling  back  to  the  rear; 
others  supported  by  their  fellows;  maimed 
bodies  on  litters.  Blood  saturated  hasty  band- 
ages, and,  in  the  case  of  one  dying  boy, 
while  the  surgeon  was  yet  fighting  it,  gushed 
out  on  the  grass  with  the  strokes  of  the 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  263 

young  heart.  And  every  drop  of  the  blood 
which  Outcault  saw,  instead  of  unnerving 
him,  swelled  a  stream  of  fire  in  his  own 
arteries  that  drove  him,  as  the  forced  draught 
of  an  engine,  to  utmost  action.  Before  he  had 
seen  this  blood  he  had  been  buoyed  onward 
by  the  ecstasy  of  combat;  now  he  burned 
with  the  fury  to  avenge,  the  frenzy  to  destroy. 
Yet  through  it  all  he  had  not  been  able  to 
aim  a  blow,  to  sight  an  antagonist,  to  force 
his  way  one  step  faster  than  the  crawling 
column.  Hardest  of  all  was  when  the  halt 
and  the  long  wait  came,  with  nothing  to  do 
but  listen  to  the  volleys  further  on,  to  the  lisps 
of  the  enemy's  bullets,  to  watch  the  wounded 
coming  back,  or  to  see  now  and  then  some 
companion  struck  down  by  a  hidden  sharp- 
shooter. Nowhere  a  visible  foe;  nowhere  to 
strike ;  but  everywhere  the  signs  of  battle, 
and  every  moment  the  knowledge  that  he 
might  be  the  next  to  fall ;  that  the  day  was 
slipping  by,  and  that  his  part  was  still  to  wait. 
He  gored  the  ground  with  his  heel  and  ripped 
loose  the  neck  of  his  shirt  in  his  rebellious 
impatience ;  and  when  at  last  the  order  came 
to  advance,  it  was  with  a  quick  cheer  that  he 
swung  forward,  breasting  his  way  through  the 


264  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

jungle  as  a  lusty  man  breasts  exultantly  the 
driving  gale.  The  long  grass  swirled  about 
his  legs,  briers  clutched  him,  boughs  lashed 
him ;  but  they  stimulated  rather  than  retarded 
him  as  he  tore  onward.  Overhead  a  torrid 
sun  was  beating  down,  and  under  foot  the 
humid  earth  was  steaming,  but  in  his  pres- 
ent mood  the  very  heat  was  a  tremendous 
exhilarant. 

Thus  crashing  through  the  brake,  he 
finally  sprang  into  the  open,  to  find  that  his 
own  company  was  nowhere  in  sight  and  to 
step  into  the  ranks  of  a  regiment  of  regulars, 
whose  lines  were  being  re-formed. 

As  he  halted  here  for  a  moment  he  swept 
the  scene  before  him.  Straight  ahead,  a  shal- 
low valley,  knee-deep  in  coarse  grass;  on  the 
far  side  a  gradual  upward  slope,  and  then  what 
seemed  an  almost  sheer  rise,  a  hundred  and 
thirty  feet,  to  the  crest  of  the  hill,  whose  ridge 
ran  horizontally,  then  to  a  gentler  descent 
on  the  right,  but  on  the  left  falling  more 
sharply  down  to  the  plain  and  blending  in 
the  billowy  outlines  of  the  wooded  heights  in 
the  distance.  On  the  summit  of  the  hill  was 
a  squat  fort ;  picketing  it,  straggling  lines  of 
posts  supporting  wire  barricades ;  distorting 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  265 

the  face  of  the  hill,  the  hissing  lips  of  rifle- 
pits  ;  and  over  all,  the  plumes  of  royal  palms 
against  the  serene  sky. 

As  Outcault  stood  looking  at  this,  the  man 
by  his  side  suggested  that  he  go  to  the  rear 
and  have  his  wound  dressed,  and  for  the  first 
time  Outcault  noticed  a  trickle  of  red  down 
his  wrist.  His  mouth  curved  with  a  quick 
smile,  and  his  nostrils  expanded  with  the  elixir 
of  burnt  powder  in  the  air. 

But  why  were  they  waiting?  Was  there 
any  thought  of  falling  back?  It  is  said  that 
there  had  been  no  general  order  to  charge, 
unsupported  by  artillery  as  they  were,  that 
fortified  hill.  But  there  was  the  hill  in  front ; 
there  were  the  woods  behind ;  and  here  were 
American  battalions  between.  Could  there 
be  any  question  whether  those  battalions 
would  take  the  hill  or  take  to  the  woods? 

Away  to  one  side  Outcault  heard  sudden 
cheering,  and  glancing  in  that  direction  he  saw 
that  the  boys  there  had  begun  to  press  across 
the  valley.  If  this  command  was  not  going 
up  that  hill,  yonder  was  one  that  was,  and 
he  was  going  with  it.  He  leaped  forward,  but 
it  was  not  alone.  Whether  an  order  was  given, 
he  never  knew ;  but  there  were  yelling  throats 


266  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

and  trampling  feet  around  him,  and  as  he 
started  toward  the  hill  his  fellows  were  by  his 
side. 

And  then,  before  fifty  yards  had  been  passed, 
darkness  surged  over  him  and  he  pitched  for- 
ward on  his  face. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  267 


XXVI 

THE  reveille  that  morning  did  not  wake  Lieu- 
tenant Arthur  Feme,  for  he  had  not  been 
asleep.  There  was  so  much  that  crowded  into 
his  thoughts  on  that  last  night  before  battle ; 
so  much  that  seemed  clearer  and  sweeter  than 
ever  before.  Perhaps  it  was  really  his  last 
night.  How  short  and  empty  his  life  had 
been  ;  how  differently  he  would  value  it  if  he 
were  to  have  another  chance.  And  Victoria 
Torrance!  Surely  life  had  never  begun  for 
him,  for  it  had  not  yet  begun  for  him  with 
her.  And  now,  it  may  be,  he  was  never  even 
to  know. 

Reveille  took  him  back  to  that  night  in  his 
boyhood  when  he  lay  awake  and  counted  the 
strokes  of  the  town  clock,  his  brain  teeming 
with  the  messages  of  doom  those  strokes  must 
toll  to  the  man  in  the  jail,  under  the  very 
shadow  of  the  belfry,  who  was  to  be  hanged  at 
six  in  the  morning. 

As  he  made  ready  for  the  march  the  one 
word  which  repeatedly  forced  itself  on  him 


268  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

was  the  saddest  in  the  language,  —  the  word 
"last."  It  might  be  the  last  sunrise;  the 
last  time  he  would  look  at  the  picture  of  his 
mother  in  the  back  of  his  watch ;  the  last  line 
he  would  ever  write  to  Victoria  Torrance, — 
this  which  he  hastily  pencilled,  sealed,  and 
placed  in  his  pocket,  "  To  be  forwarded  only 
in  case  of  death" 

Never  did  the  earth  appear  so  beautiful  as 
when  he  marched  with  his  men  this  morn- 
ing,—  never  so  beautiful  nor  so  tranquil,  and 
never  war  so  horrible.  Life  was  lavish  on 
every  hand,  and  yet  here  were  thousands  of 
human  beings,  the  highest  embodiments  of 
life,  bent  only  upon  the  destruction  of  life. 

When  the  first  gun  at  Caney  rumbled  sepul- 
chrally  among  the  hills,  he  stood  again  by  the 
graves  of  his  dead  and  heard  the  clods  falling 
upon  the  coffins. 

The  road  was  very  wearisome.  The  heat 
was  distressing.  It  weakened  him  until  he 
was  not  sure  of  his  knees.  He  breathed  it 
and  wanted  to  gasp  for  air.  His  throat  was 
dry,  and  he  had  a  sensation  as  if  his  aching 
eyes  were  swelling  against  lids  and  sockets. 

When  the  wounded  began  to  pass  he  grew 
faint.  At  sight  of  some  of  the  mutilated  forms 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  269 

waves  of  nausea  crept  over  him,  and  while  he 
gazed  into  the  blanched  face  of  a  poor  fellow 
on  a  litter,  the  rear  litter-bearer,  picked  off  by 
some  hidden  guerilla,  lurched  forward  upon 
the  wounded  man,  and  the  cry  that  followed 
pierced  Feme  to  the  marrow.  He  closed  his 
eyes,  with  a  groan  that  might  have  been  an 
echo  of  the  cry  from  the  quivering  body  on 
the  litter. 

Once,  as  his  regiment  was  waiting  by  the 
roadside  and  he  was  fighting  against  a  feeling 
that  he  was  a  helpless  target  upon  which  in- 
visible eyes  were  drawing  aim,  he  heard  a  soft 
thud,  and  as  he  caught  a  tottering  figure  at  his 
side  he  realized  with  a  waning  pulse  that  he 
had  heard  for  the  first  time  the  sound  a  bullet 
makes  when  it  strikes  flesh  and  bone. 

He  was  glad  to  obey  when,  just  after  this,  he 
was  ordered  about  forty  yards  from  the  road  to 
a  spot  in  the  bushes  where  two  or  three  officers 
were  trying  to  interview  a  Spanish  prisoner. 
As  Feme  spoke  the  language  he  was  di- 
rected to  question  the  Spaniard,  which  he  did 
to  little  avail.  The  prisoner  was  loquacious, 
but  vacuous  of  that  information  which  the 
Americans  wished.  He  had  been  sent  into 
the  woods  as  a  sharpshooter,  but  he  was  ill 


270  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

and  hungry.  He  had  heard  that  the  Ameri- 
cans had  plenty  to  eat  and  treated  their  pris- 
oners well.  He  was  too  faint  to  climb  his 
tree  that  day  and  he  had  proposed  to  his 
friend  Emilio  that  they  give  themselves  up. 
Emilio  swore  to  shoot  him  if  he  made  the 
attempt ;  those  were  Emilio's  bullets  now  cut- 
ting off  the  twigs  above  their  heads.  Would 
not  the  Americans  allow  him  to  lie  down  in 
the  gully,  where  Emilio  could  not  see  him? 

He  was  sent  under  guard  to  bring  Emilio  "  to 
dinner,"  and  it  was  while  awaiting  the  result 
of  this  expedition  that  an  incident  was  noted 
which  afterwards  got  into  some  of  the  news- 
papers as  illustrative  of  Feme's  "coolness." 
Some  one  suggested  that  as  Emilio  and  other 
marksmen  had  already  located  the  party,  cigars 
would  not  be  out  of  order,  and  passed  one  to 
Feme.  As  he  smoked  it  a  bullet  clipped  off 
the  end  of  the  cigar.  He  smiled  weakly,  but 
stooping,  picked  up  the  still  burning  tip,  with 
which  he  relighted  the  piece  remaining  be- 
tween his  lips.  Then  he  sauntered  up  to  a 
tree  and  leaning  hard  against  it,  had  his 
smoke ;  but  chill  globules  of  perspiration  had 
formed  upon  his  forehead. 

Later,  in  the  jungle  through  which  his  com- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  271 

pany  forced  its  way,  he  feared  he  would  sink 
down  in  sheer  inability  to  keep  on  his  feet. 
He  almost  fell  when  he  stumbled  over  a  still 
form  with  stony  eyes  and  dropped  jaw;  but 
he  had  understood  before  that  why  the  buz- 
zards were  in  the  sky  and  why  they  were  fly- 
ing so  low. 

When  he  emerged  from  the  cover  of  the 
thicket  and  looked  across  that  open  stretch  to 
the  hill  which  rose  beyond,  a  chaplain,  who 
was  ministering  to  the  wounded  and  the 
exhausted  with  a  canteen  of  whiskey,  came 
up  to  him. 

"Take  some  of  this,"  he  urged,  with  com- 
passion in  his  eyes ;  "  you  look  very  tired." 

Feme  grasped  the  canteen  with  a  hand  that 
tried  to  be  firm,  and  took  a  drink  that  under 
other  conditions  he  would  have  quickly  felt, 
but  which  now  seemed  to  have  no  effect  on 
him  whatever. 

When  his  company  began  its  charge  across 
the  valley  Feme,  like  one  in  a  stupor,  went 
with  it,  until,  not  a  stone's  throw  beyond  the 
point  where  Andrew  Outcault  had  fallen  a  few 
seconds  before,  a  treacherous  step  suddenly 
prostrated  him  to  the  earth,  while  his  men 
pushed  doggedly  on. 


272  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

He  lay  there  in  the  tall  grass  less  than  a 
minute,  but  it  seemed  to  him  ages.  Over  him 
flashed  the  thought  that  he  need  not  go  any 
farther  now ;  that  he  could  lie  there  until  the 
danger  was  past ;  that  he  could  honestly  plead 
the  physical  collapse  from  heat  and  fatigue 
that  had  disabled  many  another  that  day.  But 
—  and  his  frame  shook  with  agonizing  humil- 
iation as  he  dug  his  fingers  into  the  rooted 
loam  —  he  knew  now  that  he  did  not  want  to 
get  up.  He  would  not  get  up.  He  was  afraid 
to  face  that  hill 

He  flung  himself  up  on  one  elbow  and 
stared  wildly  around  as  if  seeking  some  escape 
from  himself;  and  then  something  terrible  and 
magnificent  appeared  —  something  with  heav- 
ing chest,  with  blood  flowing  down  a  set  face 
from  a  bullet  furrow  against  the  skull,  and 
with  the  blaze  of  battle  in  the  eyes.  Outcault, 
pressing  on  toward  the  hill,  saw  Feme,  and 
with  unconcealed  reluctance  paused. 

"  You,  Ferae  !  "  he  said,  kneeling  at  his  side. 
"  Where  are  you  hit  ?  Perhaps  I  can  do  some- 
thing for  you." 

Ferae  sprang  to  his  feet  and  confronted 
Outcault  as  if  at  bay.  Flushing  with  shame, 
but  meeting  Outcault's  puzzled  scrutiny  with 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  273 

a    stare    of    defiance,    he    replied    in    sullen 
fierceness : 

"  I  am  not  wounded." 

"  Are  you  ill  ? " 

"  I  am  not  ill.  There  is  nothing  the  matter 
with  me." 

"  Not  wounded  !  Not  —  my  God  !  not  worse, 
Feme?" 

Feme's  eyes  drooped,  but  he  said  it : 

"  Worse." 

"  You  !  " 

It  was  a  low  imprecation,  harsh  with  wrath 
and  contempt,  that  seemed  to  tear  the  cords 
of  Outcault's  throat.  He  threw  his  rifle  to  his 
shoulder  and  levelled  it  at  Feme's  head. 

Feme  did  not  blench. 

"  Kill  me,"  he  said,  now  looking  steadily  at 
Outcault.  "  I  do  not  want  to  live.  I  am  a 
coward." 

The  butt  of  Outcault's  gun  dropped  to  the 
ground,  and  the  two  men  gazed  at  each  other 
in  silence. 

Then  the  glory  flamed  in  Outcault's  eyes 
again,  and  he  swept  San  Juan  Hill  with  his 
free  hand. 

"  Yonder  !  "  he  cried.     "  Look  yonder,  man  ! 
There  is  the  place  to  die  !  " 
18 


274  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

Feme  followed  the  gesture  and  marked  the 
thin  ranks  of  the  Americans,  stopping  at 
nothing,  now  almost  at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

"  Come  on  !  "  shouted  Outcault.  "  Come 
with  me !  " 

Outcault  drove  forward,  and  Feme,  as  one 
to  whom  nothing  mattered  now,  moved  me- 
chanically after  him.  Outcault  was  right : 
death  was  there,  quick,  merciful,  almost  sure. 

The  two  plunged  on  together,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  Feme's  company  was  overtaken. 
His  ranking  officers  had  been  killed,  and  Feme, 
greeted  by  a  cheer,  led  his  men  up  the 
hill. 

How  the  hill  was  stormed  is  a  familiar  story. 
Some  of  Feme's  company  reached  the  summit ; 
some  had  fallen  before  they  crossed  the  valley ; 
and  others  had  been  shot  down  along  the 
hillside. 

Feme  stood  at  the  top,  taking  little  note 
of  the  demonstration  around  him,  his  listless 
eyes  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  routed 
garrison  as  it  retreated  toward  the  city. 

Then,  weak  from  loss  of  the  blood  that 
flowed  from  the  wound  in  his  side,  he  felt 
his  senses  leaving  him,  and  as  he  reeled  and 
sank  to  the  ground  it  was  with  the  content  of 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  275 

that  promised  death  which  is  the  most  that 
hope  has  to  give. 

Outcault  never  reached  the  hill.  Another 
bullet  felled  him  not  long  after  Feme  had  re- 
joined his  company;  and  this  time  Outcault 
did  not  get  up. 

In  the  list  of  the  wounded,  telegraphed  to 
the  War  Department  and  by  it  given  to  the 
newspaper  press,  was  the  name  of  Lieutenant 
Arthur  Feme ;  in  the  list  of  the  killed  was  the 
name  of  private  A.  Outcault. 


276  Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XXVII 

WHEN  Arthur  Feme  came  out  of  hospital  at 
Montauk  Point,  whither  he  had  been  trans- 
ferred from  Cuba,  he  found  that  he  was  looked 
upon  as  one  of  the  "  heroes  "  of  the  short  war. 
The  newspapers  had  made  much  of  the  part 
he  had  taken,  or  was  reported  to  have  taken, 
in  the  assault  on  San  Juan  Hill.  As  their 
story  was,  his  desperate  wound  had  been 
received  at  the  beginning  of  the  charge. 
He  had  been  shot  down  in  the  field  and  his 
company  had  rushed  on,  leaving  him  as  dead. 
But  he  had  succeeded  in  getting  to  his  feet 
again;  fearfully  wounded  as  he  was,  he  had 
dashed  on,  and,  overtaking  his  company,  whose 
only  surviving  officer  he  now  was,  had  placed 
himself  at  its  head  and  had  rallied  it  irre- 
sistibly forward.  Nothing  could  withstand 
the  onslaught  he  inspired,  though  falling  at 
every  step  were  those  who  followed  him ;  and 
it  was  not  until,  under  his  brilliant  leadership, 
the  hill  had  been  seized  that,  on  its  very  sum- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  277 

mit,  he  had  sunk  to  the  ground,  more  dead 
than  alive  from  the  shrapnel  hole  in  his  side. 
It  was  a  story  which  caught  the  popular 
imagination,  inflamed  as  it  was  by  the  deeds 
that  made  memorable  that  first  day  of  July. 
It  lost  nothing  by  repetition,  and  it  was  re- 
peated again  and  again.  Feme  read  with 
ceaseless  amazement  and  nettling  self-con- 
tempt the  correspondents'  effusive  descrip- 
tions of  what  he  had  done,  or  of  what  they 
said  he  had  done.  He  scanned  with  amuse- 
ment and  impatience  the  pictures  of  himself 
and  the  drawings  of  his  alleged  performances. 
He  thought,  with  a  sense  of  shame,  of  his 
superiors'  official  and  public  commendation 
for  gallantry  in  action,  and  of  the  general 
assumption  that  he  would  of  course  be 
among  the  first  to  be  promoted  therefor  by 
the  President  and  the  Senate.  But  through 
all  and  above  all — through  all  his  feeling  of 
unworthiness  and  guilt,  above  all  his  desire 
to  rebel  against  the  honors  that  were  heaped 
upon  him,  and  to  place  himself  in  his  true 
light  —  was  his  wondering,  in  his  waking 
and  in  his  sleeping,  what  effect  this  lionizing 
of  a  man  who  loved  her  would  work  upon 
Victoria  Torrance,  in  the  quiet  of  her  country 


27  8  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

home  and  in  the  mystery  of  her  woman's  heart 
And  wondering  thus,  he  submitted  to  the 
honors  which,  if  he  had  not  deserved,  he  had 
not  sought,  and  dreamed  dreams  of  requited 
love  when  he  was  impelled  to  speak  out  against 
the  false  position  in  which  he  had  been  placed. 
The  village  of  Feme  Run  was  very  proud  of 
the  fame  that  had  come  to  one  of  its  sons ; 
prouder,  perhaps,  since  Feme  Run  in  no  small 
degree  shared  that  fame.  The  biographic 
sketches  of  Arthur  Feme  made  mention  of 
Feme  Run  as  the  place  of  his  birth  and  resi- 
dence, and  some  of  the  illustrated  weeklies  had 
published  photographic  views  of  his  home  and 
of  the  schoolhouse  in  which  his  education  was 
begun.  The  people  of  Feme  Run  soon  real- 
ized that  the  name  of  their  town,  which  before 
had  hardly  been  heard  of  outside  the  State, 
was  now  linked  with  the  name  of  Arthur 
Feme,  which  was  known  wherever  the  story  of 
San  Juan  Hill  was  known.  They  were  eager 
to  show  at  once  to  Arthur  Feme  their  appre- 
ciation of  his  intrepid  service  at  the  front  and 
to  prove  to  the  outside  world  that  Feme  Run 
was  not  unequal  to  the  responsibilities  entailed 
upon  it  as  proprietary  of  so  distinguished  a 
citizen. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  279 

When  it  was  learned  that  Feme  had  re- 
covered from  his  wound  and  was  coming  home 
on  leave  of  absence,  Feme  Run  determined 
to  receive  him  in  a  manner  that  should  be 
worthy  of  the  occasion.  But  when  Feme 
heard  of  this  he  declined  to  participate  in  the 
plan.  He  wrote  the  committee  which  had 
communicated  with  him  on  the  subject  that  he 
was  grateful  for  the  interest  of  his  neighbors, 
but  that  he  did  not  deserve  such  a  tribute  as 
they  wished  to  pay  him,  and  that  he  could  not, 
in  self-respect,  accept  it.  He  wished  to  go 
home  quietly  and  to  mingle  with  his  friends 
quietly,  but  anything  beyond  that  would  be 
distasteful,  and  most  of  all  the  public  reception 
which  they  so  generously  proposed. 

Feme  Run  was  not  to  be  balked  of  its  pur- 
pose, however,  by  what  it  was  pleased  to  praise 
as  Feme's  modesty,  and  though  he  had  de- 
ferred the  date  of  his  intended  arrival  in  order 
to  avoid  any  ambush  which  his  hospitable 
townspeople  might  lay  for  him  despite  his 
wishes,  the  committee  did  not  find  it  impos- 
sible to  enter  into  a  conspiracy  with  his 
family  and  thus  ascertain  when  his  return 
might  be  counted  on. 

That  was  why,  one  afternoon  in  September 


28o  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

as  the  train  moved  out  from  Mavistoc  for 
Feme  Run,  Arthur  Feme  found  himself  under 
guard  of  two  members  of  the  committee  who 
had  been  sent  to  meet  him  and  bring  him  in 
on  time. 

At  first'he  was  for  backing  out,  and  threat- 
ened to  get  off  at  one  of  the  way  stations ;  but 
the  committeemen  laughingly  informed  him 
that  they  had  been  delegated  especially  to 
prevent  any  such  strategy  on  his  part,  and  that 
they  must  deliver  him  at  Feme  Run,  "  dead  or 
alive."  No  miscarriage  of  their  plans  was  to 
be  thought  of  now.  Elaborate  preparations 
for  his  reception  had  been  made.  "  Oodles  " 
of  money  had  been  spent  for  bunting  and  fire- 
works. The  street  from  the  depot  to  the 
Academy  was  already  decorated  with  flags 
and  streamers,  and  provisions  for  its  illumina- 
tion at  night  were  ready.  A  parade  had  been 
organized,  headed  by  the  Mavistoc  company  of 
militia,  which  had  preceded  him  on  the  morn- 
ing train.  The  governor  of  the  State  had 
consented  to  deliver  the  address  of  welcome, 
and  was  already  at  Feme  Run  for  that  sole 
purpose;  while  at  considerable  expense  and 
trouble  a  cannon  had  been  secured  to  fire  a 
salute.  Feme  Run  had  "  laid  herself  out  to  do 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  281 

herself  proud,  and  the  show  could  n't  be  pulled 
off  without  Hamlet." 

There  was  no  answer  to  such  arguments 
as  these.  The  affair  was  beyond  the  control  of 
Feme.  He  could  not  withdraw  now  without 
appearing  ungratefully  and  churlishly  incon- 
siderate of  his  friends.  He  resigned  himself 
to  the  situation  with  a  feeling  of  helplessness 
that  oppressed  him  for  the  rest  of  the  short 
journey.  The  committeemen  missed  in  him 
the  old-time  geniality  that  had  made  him  so 
well  liked,  but  they  attributed  the  change  to 
the  fatigue  of  travel  and  the  effect  of  his  ill- 
ness. His  talk  was  spasmodic.  Much  of  the 
time  he  was  silent,  leaning  back  inanimately 
and  staring  through  the  car-window. 

At  one  little  station  he  suddenly  bent  for- 
ward, peering  intently  at  the  name  nailed  to 
the  small  depot-building.  "  Outcault"  Fernc 
read,  and  sank  back  into  his  seat  with  an  un- 
decipherable expression  on  his  quickened  face. 

"That  must  be  a  new  station,"  he  remarked 
in  a  constrained  voice.  "  I  do  not  remember 
to  have  noticed  it  the  last  time  I  passed  over 
the  road." 

"  Yes,"  answered  one  of  the  committeemen. 
"  Old  Bob  Pennypacker  would  n't  rest  till  we 


282  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

put  a  depot  there,  and  when  we  come  to  name 
it  we  called  it  Outcault,  after  Andy.  We  thought 
he  deserved  that  much,  long 's  we  would  n't  a- 
had  the  road  except  for  him;  though  it's  all 
the  same  to  Andy,  I  reckon,  layin'  in  some 
ditch 'over  there  in  Cuby.  I  s'pose  you  didn't 
see  Andy  over  there,  did  you,  Arthur  ? " 

"  Yes ;  once.  He  was  wounded,  but  he  was 
pushing  on  alone  up  San  Juan  Hill." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  He  must  have  been  hit 
again,  or  he  'd  a-got  to  the  top.  Po'  devil !  " 

Feme  was  pale,  and  made  no  response.  Nor 
did  he  speak  again  until  rallied  by  his  escort 
as  the  train  rolled  into  Feme  Run. 

It  was  after  seven  o'clock,  and  the  line  of 
the  main  street  was  marked  by  many  lights. 
Rockets  were  ascending,  and  the  cannon  was 
booming  on  Academy  Hill.  A  brass  band  was 
playing  as  the  train  stopped,  and  there  were 
cheers  as  Feme  stepped  to  the  platform.  He 
soon  found  himself  in  an  open  carriage,  seated 
with  the  governor  and  the  mayor  and  the  chair- 
man of  the  Reception  Committee.  After  con- 
siderable delay  and  a  confusion  of  orders,  the 
procession  was  formed  and  moved  off,  the  band 
and  the  Mavistoc  Militia  leading,  then  coming 
Feme's  carriage  and  the  carriages  of  various 
functionaries  of  the  occasion,  followed  on  foot 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  283 

by  all  the  societies  of  the  county  that  were 
equipped  with  uniforms  or  regalia. 

The  march  was  through  the  principal  street 
to  the  Academy,  at  the  other  end  of  the  town. 
As  Feme's  carriage  passed  between  the  side- 
walks, noisy  with  welcome,  and  the  illuminated 
houses,  gay  with  the  national  colors  and  waving 
handkerchiefs,  he  was  numbly  observant,  as  far 
as  he  was  observant  at  all,  of  the  display  of  the 
flag  on  every  hand.  This  was  something  new 
in  Feme  Run ;  at  least,  in  his  memory  :  for 
since  the  war  between  the  States,  until  now, 
the  Stars  and  Stripes  had  been  rarely  seen  in 
the  town. 

At  last  the  parade,  which  was  to  Feme  like 
some  ruthless  dream,  was  over,  and  his  carriage 
had  halted  before  the  dingy  old  schoolhouse 
known  as  the  Academy,  in  whose  auditorium 
the  remaining  ceremonies  were  to  take  place. 
Feme  got  out  of  the  vehicle  blindly,  torpidly, 
and  walked  with  some  one  through  the  cheering 
on-lookers  up  to  the  entrance  of  the  building. 
The  vestibule  was  crowded,  and  already  he  had 
absently  shaken  the  hands  of  several  people 
near  whom  he  was  thrown  and  who  seemed 
eager  to  greet  him,  when  he  heard  the  voice  of 
Miss  Juliana  Torrance  at  his  side.  Victoria 
was  with  her,  and  Ingalls,  the  Nashville  man 


284  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

whom  Feme  had  come  to  look  upon  as  one  of 
his  rivals. 

Victoria's  face  was  radiant  as  she  welcomed 
Feme,  and  for  the  first  time  he  forgot 
momentarily  the  humiliation  of  the  part  he 
was  playing. 

"  I  suppose,"  smiled  Victoria  as  she  pressed 
his  hand,  "  that  I  ought  to  stand  in  awe  of  you 
after  you  have  so  distinguished  yourself.  But  I 
do  not ;  I  am  just  glad." 

Her  words  and  her  manner  thrilled  him 
tumultuously,  though  at  the  same  time  cutting 
him  with  an  acuter  realization  of  the  despic- 
able masquerade  by  which  he  had  won  them. 
But  despicable  as  he  felt  that  masquerade,  so 
powerful  was  the  intoxication  of  winning 
such  a  light  from  Victoria  Torrance's  eyes 
and  such  warmth  from  her  voice  that  he 
walked  on  into  the  hall  with  alert  step  and 
gallant  bearing ;  and  when  the  applause  broke 
from  the  audience  as  he  was  conducted  to 
his  seat  on  the  stage,  he  had,  for  the  moment 
at  least,  not  only  a  feeling  of  passive  sub- 
mission, but  one  that  very  closely  approached 
positive  elation. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  285 


XXVIII 

ANDREW  OUTCAULT,  on  the  departure  of  the 
hospital  ship  that  bore  Arthur  Feme  to  Mon- 
tauk  Point,  had  been  among  those  so  near 
death  that  they  were  left  in  Cuba.  But  he  had 
also  been  among  those  who  refused  to  die,  and 
when  at  last  he  was  able  and  at  liberty  to  start 
on  his  return  home  it  was  in  ignorance  of  the 
published  report  of  his  death  in  battle. 

At  Feme  Run  that  report,  official  as  it  ap- 
parently was,  and  never  corrected,  had  been 
generally  accepted  as  conclusive.  It  was 
known,  however,  that  Cap'n  Pow  Hallibur- 
ton had  not  yet  abandoned  all  hope.  Cap'n 
Pow  had  seen  too  much  of  war  and  knew 
too  many  private  soldiers  yet  living  who  had 
been  reported  killed  on  the  field,  to  resign 
himself,  without  further  investigation,  to  the 
certainty  of  Outcault's  death.  That  investi- 
gation he  proposed  to  make  by  a  personal 
trip,  if  necessary,  to  Santiago,  so  soon  as,  with 
cooler  weather  and  improved  conditions  in 


286  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

the  fever-stricken  region,  there  should  be  less 
obstruction  to  such  a  journey.  In  the  mean 
time  Cap'n  Pow  read  all  the  news  from  the 
camps  and  the  hospitals,  and  not  only  re- 
fused to  file  for  probate,  but  even  to  open, 
the  will  which  had  been  left  with  him  by 
Andrew  Outcault 

Not  knowing  that  he  had  been  advertised  as 
dead,  or  that  the  letter  he  had  written  Cap'n 
Pow  from  Cuba  had  not  yet  been  received, 
Outcault  set  out  for  home  with  a  light  heart 
and  fast  returning  strength.  Instead  of  going 
by  way  of  Mavistoc,  he  went  around  by  Kel- 
way,  thinking  to  stop  there  a  day  to  look  after 
his  phosphate  lands ;  but  almost  the  first  per- 
son he  met  at  Kelway,  after  convincing  him- 
self that  Outcault  was  still  alive,  informed  him 
of  the  news  of  his  death  that  was  credited  at 
Ferae  Run,  and  Outcault  without  delay  had 
secured  a  horse  and  continued  his  journey. 

As  he  neared  Feme  Run  he  was  puzzled  by 
the  display  of  rockets  over  the  town. 

"  What  are  they  doing  down  there  ? "  he 
asked  of  a  pedestrian  whom  he  overtook  in 
the  darkness. 

"  What  ?    Them  there  sky-rockitin's  ?  " 

"Yes." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  287 

"  My  sakes !  don't  you  know  what  that 's 
fer  ? " 

"  No." 

"  Land  alive !  I  reckon  you  must  a-come 
from  a  long  distance,  did  n't  you  ?  " 

"  Considerable  distance." 

"  I  knowed  it !  Well,  I  reckon  you  've  heerd 
tell  of  Arthur  Feme,  ain  't  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  " 

"  Co'se !  Well,  that 's  the  place  yonder  you 
see  them  rockitin's  that  Arthur  Feme  was 
horned  an1  raised  at  befo'  he  went  to  the  waw 
an'  started  up  all  that  potrack  a-savin'  the 
whole  Nunited  States  army  after  the  other 
awficers  was  killed,  an'  a-climbin'  that  Sandy 
June  Hill  an'  everlastin*  breshin'  the  jackets 
of  them  Dagoes  an'  Spinige,  an'  all  them  do- 
in's  down  yonder  in  Cuby." 

"Ah!     I  see." 

"  Well,  Arthur,  he  's  jus'  gittin'  home,  an' 
they  're  a-givin'  him  a  big  blowout  to-night." 

"  So  that  explains  the  rockets?  " 

"  Yes-sir-ree !  An'  a  heap  mo  'n  rockits. 
They's  a  cannon  —  didn't  you  hear  her  jus' 
now?  —  an'  a  gran'  promenade  from  the  depot 
thoo  the  town,  windin'  up  with  a  big  powwow 
at  the  'Cademy  ;  an'  dog  my  cats,  it 's  jus'  my 


288  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

luck  I  won't  make  it  in  time  to  see  the  haft  of 
it!  " 

Outcault  thanked  his  informant  and  rode  on, 
laughing  as  the  countryman  flung  after  him : 

"  Say,  mister,  it 's  too  dark  to  git  a  good  look 
at  you,  but  ef  I  ain't  heerd  yo'  voice  befo' 
somers-er-ruther,  I  'm  a  Dutchman  !  " 

The  Academy  was  on  the  side  of  the  town 
entered  by  the  Kelway  pike,  and  Outcault 
soon  saw  the  illuminated  windows  of  the 
familiar  structure.  The  village  itself  seemed 
deserted,  and  he  cantered  on  to  the  Academy 
without  finding  any  one  on  the  streets.  The 
"  powwow  "  in  the  Academy  had  evidently  be- 
gun, for  as  he  dismounted  in  the  grove  that 
surrounded  the  building  he  could  hear  the 
voice  of  a  speaker  and  catch  glimpses  of  the 
intent  throng  in  the  hall.  Feeling  sure  that 
Cap'n  Pow  Halliburton  was  there,  Outcault 
was  in  no  haste  to  ride  on  home,  and  tying  his 
horse,  he  started  toward  the  entrance  of  the 
hall. 

But  it  occurred  to  him  that  so  sudden  a 
return  of  the  dead  to  life  might  create  more  of 
a  stir  than  would  be  agreeable  to  himself  and 
conducive  to  the  equanimity  of  his  friends  in 
the  audience.  He  therefore  went  around  to 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  289 

one  side  of  the  house,  taking  a  position  against 
a  tree  near  an  open  window,  where  he  could 
hear  and  see  without  being  observed  himself. 

A  glance  revealed  that  the  hall  was  crowded, 
two  thirds  of  those  seated  being  women,  while 
many  men  stood  in  the  rear  and  others  occu- 
pied, in  solemn  constraint,  the  rows  of  chairs 
on  the  stage. 

The  assemblage  reminded  Outcault  of  the 
old  Commencement  Day  gatherings,  always 
the  largest  known  in  Feme  Run,  except,  of 
course,  those  drawn  by  the  circus.  The 
governor  was  speaking  ;  but  paying  little  heed 
to  the  florid  periods,  Outcault  gave  most  of 
his  attention  to  the  audience.  His  first  quest 
was  Victoria  Torrance,  whom  he  soon  dis- 
covered sitting  a  few  yards  away  from  the  win- 
dow through  which  he  was  looking,  and  his 
eyes  lingered  on  the  sure-lined  profile,  standing 
out  to  him  in  luminous  relief  against  the  nega- 
tive blur  of  hundreds  of  other  faces. 

Finally,  following  the  direction  of  her  gaze, 
Outcault  saw  not  the  speaker,  who  had  gestic- 
ulated himself  to  one  extreme  corner  of  the 
stage,  but  Arthur  Feme,  sitting  impassively 
near  the  centre. 

There  was  something  in  that  impassiveness 
'9 


290  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

that  fixed  Outcault's  scrutiny.  It  was  not 
Arthur  Feme  as  Outcault,  as  Feme  Run,  knew 
him.  The  face,  always  alive,  even  in  repose, 
was  now  vacant ;  the  eyes  were  dull ;  and  there 
was  in  the  attitude  of  the  man  as  he  sat  in  his 
chair  an  utter  lack  of  any  appearance  of  in- 
terest in,  or  perception  of,  what  was  going  on 
about  him,  that  was  strikingly  uncharacteristic. 
His  pallor,  Outcault  reflected,  might  be  at- 
tributable to  his  confinement  in  hospital,  but 
that  could  not  explain  his  apparent  petrifaction. 

There  was  no  change  in  Feme's  position  or 
aspect  as  the  governor  concluded  with  fervid 
peroration  and  took  his  seat  amid  generous 
applause ;  nor  when  the  mayor  arose  and  an- 
nounced that  the  governor  having  welcomed 
Feme  Run's  distinguished  son  in  behalf  of  the 
State,  Captain  Powhatan  Halliburton  would 
now  perform  that  pleasant  duty  in  behalf  of  the 
county  and  the  city ;  nor  when  Cap'n  Pow  him- 
self emerged  from  those  banked  in  the  rear  of 
the  stage  and  walked  down  to  the  table  in 
front. 

Cap'n  Pow  was  received  by  the  audience  with 
a  demonstration  even  more  pronounced  than 
the  clapping  of  hands  and  stamping  of  feet 
which  had  been  accorded  the  governor,  several 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  291 

shouts  from  the  rear  of  the  house  also  greeting 
the  captain  as  he  stood  forth. 

"  Now  we  '11  have  it,  boys !  "  whooped  a 
strong  tenor  voice. 

"  Give  'em  fits,  Cap'n  Pow ! "  roared  the 
bass  of  Little  Ony  Swango. 

Cap'n  Pow,  pouring  a  glass  of  water  from 
the  pitcher  on  the  table,  and  taking  a  sip, 
while  he  gracefully  swept  back  his  beard,  bowed 
his  best,  —  which  was  as  good  as  any  man's 
best,  —  buttoned  the  bottom  button  —  only  the 
bottom  button  —  of  his  broadcloth,  velvet- 
collared  frock,  and  began. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  was  his  opening, 
dwelling  labially  on  the  "  ladies  "  and  adding 
"  and  gentlemen  "  as  a  pendent  formality. 

At  first  he  spoke  without  haste  or  fire,  with 
equable  modulation  and  temperate  movement, 
but  it  was  not  long  before  his  gestures  were 
continuous  and  violent,  though  never  awk- 
ward, while  the  flow  of  his  words  became  tor- 
rential, and  his  voice  rang  as  high  and  bell-like 
as  it  ever  could  have  done  when  he  was  in 
the  thick  of  the  fray  with  Forrest.  He  drew 
copiously  from  Grecian  and  Roman  myth  and 
history ;  he  quoted  liberally  from  Scott,  Moore, 
and  Byron ;  he  studded  his  periods  with  meta- 


292  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

phoric  "  stars,"  "  constellations,"  "  shields," 
"  bucklers,"  "  white  plumes,"  "  gonfalons," 
"  escutcheons,"  "  scrolls  of  fame  "  and  "  letters 
of  living  light."  He  extolled  the  supremacy  of 
Middle  Tennessee  as  "  the  core  of  creation," 
and  pictured  Arthur  Ferae  as  "  the  flower  of 
its  chivalry." 

Painting  the  glory  Feme  had  won  in  the 
sight  of  all  men,  Cap'n  Pow  then  came  to  the 
heart  of  his  address.  "  The  world  knows  and 
has  acclaimed,"  he  said,  "  the  prowess  of  Arthur 
Ferae  in  war.  Our  illustrious  chief  executive 
has  given  voice  to  the  pride  which  the  people 
of  our  Commonwealth  feel  in  the  public  career 
of  her  valiant  son.  But  it  is  for  me  to  testify 
to  the  admiration  and  love  in  which  he  is  held, 
and  has  always  been  held,  by  his  neighbors 
and  companions.  And  speaking  to  this  point, 
I  say  here,  and  I  say  it  without  fear  of  success- 
ful impeachment  or  impugnment,  that  no  lad 
ever  grew  up  to  a  straighter,  nobler  manhood, 
none  ever  had  soul  whiter  for  immaculate  honor 
nor  thews  stronger  for  courageous  deed,  none 
ever  more  realized  the  composite  ideal  of  the 
Bayard  and  the  Lion-Hearted,  sans peur  et  sans 
reproche,  than  he  who  is  so  modestly  the  re- 
cipient of  the  testimonial  of  affection  and  pride 
we  are  here  to  pay." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  293 

Cap'n  Pow  soared  on  in  this  strain  for  some 
time,  when  he  added :  "  I  will  conclude  this 
phase  of  my  remarks,  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
with  one  more  poetical  gem.  I  have  already 
enriched  my  poor  words  with  borrowed  beams 
from  some  of  the  most  resplendent  orbs  in  the 
immortal  galaxy  of  poesy,  but  to  my  mind 
nothing  could  be  so  pertinent  here  as  the 
poem  which  I  am  now  going  to  repeat  to  you. 
It  was  written  by  one  who  shows  that  his  hand 
is  for  the  pen  as  well  as  for  the  sword.  It  was 
written  by  a  boy  at  school,  and  given  in  to  his 
teacher  as  a  '  composition.'  It  was  preserved 
by  that  teacher,  and  only  to-day  was  furnished 
to  me  by  him  that  I  might  thus  share  it  with 
you  to-night.  It  was  written,  you  may  be  sur- 
prised to  hear,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  by  a  lad 
while  a  pupil  in  this  very  Academy,  no  less 
a  personage  than  Arthur  Feme  himself.  Thus 
it  runs." 

Here  Cap'n  Pow  unfolded  a  sheet  of  paper 
and  read  a  well-turned  ode,  doing  full  justice, 
with  his  resounding  elocution,  to  its  lofty 
sentiment. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  continued, 
as  he  replaced  the  paper  in  his  pocket,  "  did 
not  the  boy  who  penned  these  lines  fore- 


294  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

shadow  the  man  we  honor  to-night?  Can 
any  one  deem  it  strange  that  the  spirit  which 
in  the  boy  lifted  up  his  voice  in  such  celes- 
tial consecration  to  Valor,  Honor,  and  Truth 
was  the  same  spirit  which  in  the  man  lifted 
up  his  arm,  in  the  face  of  blood  and  death,  to 
plant  the  flag  of  liberty  and  law  on  the  last 
foothold  of  Old-World  despotism  and  degrada- 
tion, over  a  New-World  continent  redeemed  ?  " 

When  the  acclamations  which  this  flight 
evoked  died  away  Cap'n  Pow,  after  a  drink 
of  water,  resumed : 

"Now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  —  momen- 
tarily in  a  lower  and  slower  voice, — "one 
word  more  and  I  am  done;  and  you  will 
pardon  me,  I  know,  if  it  impinges  on  per- 
sonality. But  I  could  not  repeat  that  poem 
worthily,  I  could  not  stand  here  on  this  oc- 
casion honestly,  if  I  did  not  say  this  word. 

"You  all  know,  my  friends  and  fellow-citi- 
zens, that  I  was  once  in  a  war  myself.  Many  of 
you  have  heard  me  declare  time  and  again  — 
and  declare  it  with  a  fervor  and  feeling  that  be- 
spoke my  sincerity  —  that  if  Nathan  Bedford 
Forrest  had  been  in  command  at  Fort  Donel- 
son,  that  war  would  have  resulted  in  a  victory 
for  the  Southern  Confederacy.  I  believed 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  295 

that  then,  and  I  believe  it  now.  But,  my 
fellow-citizens,  in  the  light  of  this  later  war, 
in  the  light  of  Manila  Bay  and  Santiago,  in 
the  light  of  the  common  patriotism  and  the 
common  glory  of  our  boys  in  the  South  and  our 
boys  in  the  North,  — of  those  who  have  come 
back  to  us  and  those  who  fell,  — in  the  light  of 
that  flag  which  they  have  lifted  anew  in  the 
sight  of  us  all,  I  thank  my  God  —  and  I  thank 
my  God  that  I  have  lived  to  see  it  and  to  say 
it  —  that  Nathan  Bedford  Forrest  was  not  in 
command  at  Fort  Donelson ! " 

As  Cap'n  Pow  sat  down  the  audience  rose, 
and  "the  old  rebel  yell,"  starting  from  "the 
boys "  in  the  back  of  the  hall,  was  taken  up 
all  over  the  house  by  masculine  throats,  while 
women  waved  handkerchiefs  excitedly,  and 
some  of  them  gave  utterance  to  queer  little 
hysterical  cries. 

There  was  a  like  disorder  on  the  stage, 
and  some  of  the  men  who  had  been  seated 
there  were  rushing  over  to  grasp  Cap'n  Pow's 
hand. 

As  the  commotion  subsided,  Outcault  saw 
Feme  standing,  white  and  still,  by  the 
speaker's  table.  There  was  another  great 
cheer  from  the  audience  at  this,  and  then  a 


196  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

waiting  hush.  But  there  was  something  in 
the  strange  look  of  Feme  that  kept  the  audi- 
ence on  its  feet. 

"There  are  a  few  things  which  I  wish  to 
speak  of  myself,"  he  said,  "because  I  am  the 
only  one  who  can  speak  of  them. " 

It  seemed  as  if  there  was  a  stricture  of  his 
throat,  and  his  words  were  almost  inaudible. 

"Louder!"  came  from  different  parts  of 
the  hall. 

Feme  turned  and  swallowed  a  gulp  of  water 
in  the  glass  by  his  side;  then,  with  his  hand 
resting  on  the  table,  he  began  speaking 
again,  more  distinctly,  but  in  the  monotone 
of  one  who  had  set  himself  a  task  and  was 
determined  to  get  through  it : 

"This  is  a  welcome  home  which  any  man 
might  be  inexpressibly  proud  of,  if  he  de- 
served it.  I  tried  to  escape  it  because  I 
knew  I  did  not  deserve  it.  If  I  had  deserved 
it  more  I  should  have  escaped  it,  despite  the 
preparations  which  I  learned,  on  the  train  to- 
day, you  had  made  to  receive  me.  But  it  is 
immaterial  to  go  back  to  that.  Although  it 
was  not  my  desire  to  receive  these  honors 
from  you,  I  entered  this  hall  with  my  mind 
fully  made  up  to  play  out  to  the  end  the 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  297 

hypocritical  part  circumstances  had  assigned 
to  me.  I  knew  I  could  play  it  success- 
fully and  safely,  for  the  only  witness  who 
could  have  exposed  my  baseless  pretensions, 
Andrew  Outcault,  is  dead.  Let  me  confess 
more.  Unwilling  as  I  was  at  first  to  play 
this  part,  yet  for  a  time,  since  I  have  been 
in  your  presence  I  was  not  only  reconciled  to 
the  part,  but  I  believe  I  can  say  that  I  had  a 
feeling  of  exultation  in  the  attentions  you 
were  heaping  upon  me.  I  am  resolved,  how- 
ever, not  to  keep  up  this  deception  longer. 
Your  kindness  to  me  is  meant  for  a  brave 
man;  it  is  given  to  a  coward." 

The  audience  had  been  breathless,  bewil- 
dered, but  now  its  silence  was  broken  by  a 
few  protesting  exclamations. 

"No!" 

"We  know  you!" 

Feme  went  on,  in  the  same  colorless  way, 
and  told  of  his  share  in  the  assault  on  San  Juan 
Hill :  the  weakness  and  fear  that  had  unnerved 
him  as  he  approached  the  field  of  battle;  his 
fall  in  the  grass  and  his  decision  to  lie  there 
out  of  danger;  the  appearance  and  action  of 
Andrew  Outcault ;  and  the  consequent  charge 
up  the  hill  in  search  of  death  to  end  disgrace. 


298  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"That,"  he  concluded,  "is  the  real  story  of 
the  man  you  are  hailing  to-night  as  a  hero. 
I  have  been  almost  irresistibly  tempted  to 
remain  as  silent  in  its  suppression  as  the  lips 
of  Andrew  Outcault  are  in  death,  as  they 
would  be  in  life  if  he  had  survived;  but  it 
is  some  relief  to  me  to  find  that  at  the  last 
moment  I  have  at  least  drawn  back  from 
that." 

As  he  returned  listlessly  to  his  seat,  the 
audience  for  two  or  three  seconds  made  no 
sound  or  movement,  except  that  here  and 
there  a  handkerchief  was  carried  to  the  eyes 
of  some  woman.  Then  one  of  the  voices  in 
the  rear  cried  out :  — 

"Good  for  you,  Arthur!  We  don't  take 
nothin'  back ! " 

At  the  same  time  the  governor  sprang  up, 
and  crossing  over  to  Ferae,  seized  his  limp 
hand,  and  said  very  distinctly,  and  somewhat 
stagily :  — 

"  I  want  to  salute  publicly  a  man  who  has 
just  done  the  bravest  thing  that  I  have  ever 
witnessed." 

Then,  turning  to  the  audience,  he  added : 
"  I  am  sure,  fellow-citizens,  that  you  will 
agree  with  me  in  this,  though  we  may  all  dis- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  299 

agree  with  our  young  friend  here  in  his  self- 
accusation  of  cowardice.  I  remember  reading 
a  description  by  General  Grant  of  his  sensa- 
tions when  going  into  his  first  battle  that 
were  somewhat  similar  to  those  which  Cap- 
tain Ferae  has  confessed,  and  all  of  you  must 
have  known  or  heard  of  like  experiences  by  men 
whose  courage  was  unquestioned.  But  there 
is  a  higher  courage  than  that  which  faceth 
the  cannon's  mouth  or  taketh  a  city,  and, 
depreciating  himself  as  he  did,  feeling  as 
he  did,  who  can  say  that  Captain  Feme  has 
not  but  now  conspicuously  illustrated  that 
courage  ? " 

There  was  some  applause,  some  shuffling  of 
position  among  the  auditors.  There  were 
also  a  few  cheers,  and  one  very  vigorous  one 
outside  the  window  where  Outcault  was 
standing. 

As  the  governor  had  risen,  Outcault  had 
been  strongly  impelled  to  rush  into  the 
building  and  utter  some  such  words  as  the 
governor  spoke.  But,  after  all,  he  could  say 
nothing  more  than  the  governor  had  said,  and 
Outcault  felt  that  such  an  appearance  by 
him  now  would  be  not  only  superfluous,  but 
theatrical  and  tawdry.  And  as  the  mayor,  at 


300  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

this  point,  after  some  remarks  in  keeping 
with  those  of  the  governor,  was  declaring  the 
programme  of  the  evening  at  an  end  and  was 
dismissing  the  audience,  Outcault  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  homeward. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  301 


XXIX 

DAYLIGHT  was  slitting  the  blinds  of  Feme's 
room  next  morning  as  he  finally  fell  into  the 
sleep  of  exhaustion.  When  he  awoke,  and 
the  veil  of  oblivion,  which  lingers  a  little 
after  the  eyes  have  opened,  suddenly  lifted, 
he  turned  his  face  to  the  pillow,  as  if  to 
shut  out  again  the  world  that  had  been  lost  to 
him  as  he  slept.  Presently  the  clock  struck, 
and  he  began  counting  the  strokes,  thinking 
that  they  would  number  perhaps  seven  or 
eight.  When  they  stopped  at  two,  he  raised 
his  head  in  incredulity  and  looked  at  the 
window.  The  sunbeams,  sifting  through  the 
blinds,  confirmed  the  clock :  it  was  afternoon. 
He  sank  back  in  bed,  and  lay  staring  at  the 
ceiling.  What  mattered  the  hour?  Better 
here,  with  the  blinds  drawn,  he  thought,  than 
anywhere  else. 

A  servant  knocked  and  entered,  laying  a 
note  on  the  table,  and  quietly  leaving  the 
room.  Feme  indifferently  reached  over  and 


302  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

took  the  note.  As  he  held  it  before  him  in 
the  dim  light,  something  in  the  superscription 
caused  him  to  leap  up  and  throw  open  the 
blinds.  He  was  not  mistaken:  it  was  the 
handwriting  of  Victoria  Torrance.  He  stared 
at  the  envelope  with  straining  eyes,  and  then, 
abruptly  tearing  it  open,  read :  — 

"Will  you  not  come  to  see  me  to-day?  I  shall 
look  for  you. 

"VICTORIA  TORRANCE." 

He  read  it  over  and  over;  and  after  he 
knew  every  word  and  letter  of  it,  and  the 
writing  was  blurred  by  the  film  that  had  come 
over  his  eyes,  he  stood  holding  the  sheet 
before  him. 

"God  bless  her!"  he  finally  said,  in  a 
choking  voice,  as  he  replaced  the  note  in  the 
envelope. 

He  bathed  and  dressed  mechanically.  Vic- 
toria Torrance  had  thought  of  him  to-day ! 
She  had  sent  for  him,  after  last  night !  Ah, 
the  nobility  and  sweetness  of  such  a  woman ! 
Could  any  one,  be  he  never  so  frail,  fall  be- 
yond  her  pity  and  sympathy  ? 

Her  pity  and  sympathy!  And  that  was  all 
he  could  hope  for  now. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  303 

But  it  was  Victoria  Torrance  he  was  to 
see;  it  was  Victoria  Torrance  he  was  nearing 
at  every  stride  of  his  horse  as  he  rode  out  the 
avenue  that  afternoon.  And,  unconscious  of 
it  though  he  was,  the  strides  grew  swifter  as 
the  distance  shortened;  and  when  he  dis- 
mounted at  The  Mounds  he  hastened  into  the 
house  with  much  of  the  alertness  of  his  boy- 
hood in  his  step  and  something  of  their  old 
light  in  his  eyes. 

As  he  waited  Victoria's  coming  his  heart- 
beats were  strong  and  fast.  It  was  not  hope ; 
but  if  it  was  not  hope  it  was  something  —  the 
power  of  her  presence  —  that  for  the  time  dis- 
pelled despair. 

He  did  not  wait  long.  Almost  immedi- 
ately he  heard  her  rapid  descent  of  the  stairs, 
and  he  was  on  his  feet  as  she  entered  the 
room. 

She  went  up  to  him  quickly,  both  hands 
outstretched;  and  in  their  warm  pressure, 
and  in  the  depths  of  her  eyes,  there  was  an 
infinity  of  womanly  joy  and  solicitude. 

"I  am  so  glad,  so  more  than  glad  to  see 
you,"  she  said,  in  the  soft  fulness  of  a  voice 
whose  sincerity  could  never  be  doubted. 
*'  Were  you  surprised  to  get  my  note  ? "  she 


304  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

asked  as  they  sat  down.  But  without  pausing 
for  an  answer,  she  continued:  "I  did  not 
know  when  you  would  come,  and  I  did  not 
wish  to  wait.  I  thought  of  writing  you  a 
long  letter  this  morning,  but  I  preferred  to 
talk  to  you." 

"I  am  fortunate  in  that,"  Feme  answered, 
with  an  attempt  at  lightness;  "for  now  I 
have  both  your  note  and  the  talk." 

"I  wanted  to  tell  you  how  proud  we 
were  of  your  action  last  night.  It  was  — 
indeed,  I  have  never  known  anything  so 
fine." 

Feme  looked  at  her  a  moment  in  silence, 
and  something  of  the  lack-lustre  expression 
of  the  preceding  evening  had  returned  to  his 
eyes  as  they  fell  before  hers. 

"  Fine ! "  he  replied  dully.  "  Do  you  call 
it  fine  for  a  man  who  has  played  the  impostor 
to  confess  the  truth  at  the  eleventh  hour, 
when  the  consequences  of  his  deception  be- 
come more  than  he  can  endure  ?  " 

"  You  have  no  right  to  think  of  it  in  that 
way,"  Victoria  replied,  with  spirit.  "You 
do  yourself  and  your  friends  the  greatest 
injustice.  You  have  always  been  given  to 
self-depreciation,  when  you  have  less  cause 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  305 

than  any  one  I  know.  Don't  you  suppose 
we  all  understand  that  if  you  were  placed  in 
even  any  apparently  false  position  by  the 
reports  of  your  conduct  in  Cuba  you  were  not 
responsible  for  the  mistake?  Could  you, 
while  you  were  at  the  point  of  death  in  the 
hospital,  prevent  your  superior  officers  and 
the  newspapers  from  making  a  hero  of  you? 
And  why  should  n't  they  have  made  a  hero 
of  you?  You  can't  deny  you  did  the  things 
they  say  you  did?  What  difference  does  it 
make  if  there  was  a  time  when  you  felt  some 
—  some  trepidation?  Was  not  that  natural? 
Do  not  all  brave  men  say  that  there  are  such 
times  in  their  own  experiences  ?  " 

"I  simply  know,"  he  answered  obstinately, 
without  looking  up  at  her,  "that  I  was  not  a 
brave  man." 

"You  are  the  bravest  man  I  have  ever 
known,"  she  resented.  "The  mere  fact  that 
while  you  took  such  a  wrong  view  of  the  case 
and  felt  so  poignantly  that  you  were  what 
you  call  an  impostor,  you  made  that  voluntary 
confession  last  night,  proves  a  higher  courage 
than  any  that  can  be  shown  on  the  battle-field. 
That  is  the  way,  I  want  you  to  be  sure,  your 
friends  feel  about  it." 


306  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

He  looked  at  her  now  gratefully,  but  still 
sombrely. 

"This  is  like  you,"  he  said.  "You  always 
put  the  most  generous  construction  on  things. 
But  — "  he  paused,  and  then  continued  reso- 
lutely—  "you  do  not  yet  know  all.  I — am 
not  certain  I  intended  to  be  honest  enough 
to  tell  you  all  until  this  moment.  I  was 
never  reconciled  to  the  trick  which  circum- 
stances  played  me  until  —  I  met  you  at  the 
Academy  door  last  night.  I  can't  say  that 
I  was  reconciled  to  it  then;  but  somehow, 
for  a  while,  after  I  left  you  and  passed  on 
into  the  hall,  I  felt  a  sort  of  blind  gratifica- 
tion in  it,  and  a  confirmed  determination 
to  carry  it  through  to  the  end.  When  I  said 
good-bye  to  you  last  spring  I  was  conscious 
that  there  was  something  lacking  in  me 
that  was  necessary  to  the  man  who  would 
impress  you,  as  it  had  been  my  life-long  de- 
sire to  impress  you ;  but  when  I  saw  you  last 
night  it  came  over  me  —  God  knows  why, 
except  for  the  friendliness  of  your  greeting 
—  that  perhaps  the  lack  in  me  might  be 
supplied  by  —  by  what  they  said  I  had  done 
in  Cuba,  and  what  those  people  were  wel- 
coming me  for.  And  I  was  contemptible 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  307 

enough  to  wish  to  win  you  by  keeping  up 
the  fraud." 

Victoria  looked  at  him  sadly  for  several 
seconds  after  he  had  spoken,  tears  coming 
into  her  eyes. 

"That  made  your  words  last  night  braver 
still,"  she  said  gently. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  as  if  the  bonds  of 
his  self-control  had  suddenly  snapped. 

"  Ah,  do  not  look  at  me,  do  not  speak  to 
me  like  that ! "  he  expostulated. 

He  started  as  if  to  walk  across  the  room, 
but  abruptly  turned  again  to  her,  gripping 
the  back  of  the  chair  from  which  he  had 
risen.  "There  is  something  yet  that  you 
would  say,  that  you  fear  would  hurt  me. 
What  is  it?"  he  demanded.  "Let  me  know 
everything ! " 

She  stood,  sorrowful  and  anguished,  before 
him. 

"There  is  something  I  ought  to  say,"  she 
owned,  miserably.  "When  you  went  away 
last  spring  I  told  you  that  there  might  be, 
some  time,  a  possibility  of  —  of  my  feeling 
for  you  something  stronger  than  admiration 
and  friendship." 

"  And  now,"  Feme's  whitening  lips  formed, 


308  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

"  you  would  tell  me  that  there  is  even  no  such 
possibility." 

"I  must,"  she  answered  with  a  pitiful  firm- 
ness. "There  is  no  longer  a  possibility; 
there  can  never  be." 

Feme  looked  away,  for  a  moment,  through 
the  window.  When  he  confronted  Victoria 
again  his  face  seemed  to  have  been  resolved 
into  its  elemental  clay. 

"Good-bye,"  he  murmured,  taking  her 
hand.  "You  see,"  with  a  ghastly  half -smile, 
"even  you,  after  that  wretched  affair  of  last 
night  —  " 

He  cut  off  his  words  as  if  unable  further 
to  trust  his  voice,  and  moved  to  leave. 

She  caught  his  hand  imperatively.  "No, 
no ! "  she  cried.  "  You  wrong  me,  as  well  as 
yourself.  If  anything  could  have  turned  my 
heart  to  you,  it  would  have  been  last  night. 
But  —  " 

"But?"  he  asked,  after  waiting  for  her  to 
go  on. 

"I  —  have  no  heart  for  any  one." 

"  Then  —  do  not  answer  me  if  I  am  too 
insistent  —  it  is  another's?  " 

For  an  instant  her  eyes  fell  before  his 
searching  gaze ;  a  light  of  rose  dawned  in  her 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  309 

face,  then  waned  to  gray ;  she  raised  her  head 
and  looked  at  Feme  frankly,  unreservedly. 

"Yes,"  was  her  quiet  answer.  "It  is  an- 
other's—  in  his  grave." 

Feme  was  very  still  for  a  little,  his  fixed 
expression  slowly  softening. 

"Forgive  me,"  he  begged  humbly.  "I  had 
not  suspected;  and  I  have  been  thinking  only 
of  myself. " 

As  he  was  leaving  she  accompanied  him  to 
the  veranda. 

"You  must  come  out  to  see  us  again  — 
often  —  if  —  " 

She  seemed  to  assume  he  would  understand 
what  she  would  have  said. 

"Yes,  if,"  he  responded  desolately;  "but 
can  I  ?  Could  any  man  in  my  place?  " 

Just  then  Rosalie  Kemp  drove  up,  and 
Feme  went  to  help  her  from  the  cart.  She 
was  beaming  as  she  called  out: 

"  How  splendid  it  is  to  find  you  both  here  ! " 

She  held  out  her  hands  to  Feme  and 
jumped  to  the  ground. 

"  And  I  'm  really,  truly,  perfectly  delighted 
to  see  you  again,  Arthur,  — I  'm  going  to  call 
you  Arthur  still,  even  if  you  have  got  to  be 
such  a  high-and-mighty  personage.  And  I  'm 


3io  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

crazy  to  have  you  tell  me  about  your  won- 
derful experiences  and  all !  And,  oh  !  have 
you  heard  the  latest  news?  Of  course  you 
have!  Isn't  it  just  too  good  to  be  true, 
though  ?  Arthur  Feme,  between  you  and 
Andrew  Outcault  Feme  Run  never  was  in 
such  a  stew ! " 

Victoria,  her  breathing  suspended,  and  her 
face  as  if  suddenly  touched  by  the  spectral 
glare  of  an  arc  light,  asked  faintly,  "What 
news?"  while  Feme  started  with  an  ejacu- 
latory  gasp : 

"Andrew  Outcault!  What  about  Andrew 
Outcault  ? " 

"Oh,"  Rosalie  cried,  with  the  zest  of  one 
who  is  first  to  tell  it,  "then  you  have  not 
heard!  Andrew  Outcault  has  come  back! 
He  is  not  dead  !  He  never  has  been  dead !  I 
saw  him  myself,  in  town,  not  an  hour  ago ! " 

Victoria  did  not  stir  or  speak.  Only  that 
her  face  was  a  little  paler,  that  her  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  Rosalie  with  a  startled,  wide 
bewilderment,  and  that  her  handkerchief  had 
slipped  to  the  ground  from  her  hand,  it  might 
have  been  that  she  did  not  hear. 

"  Thank  God !  "  Feme  spoke  in  all  sincer- 
ity, for  the  first  time  in  his  life  pretending 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  311 

not  to  see  a  lady's  handkerchief  that  had  been 
dropped.  "It  is  good  news,  Miss  Rosalie," 
he  said ;  but  he  was  looking  at  Victoria  as 
he  held  close  her  nerveless  hand  for  a  brief 
moment  in  parting,  during  which  a  little 
color  crept  into  her  face,  and  her  lids  fluttered, 
and  hid  the  eyes  that  would  not  meet  his 
earnest  scrutiny. 

"Yes,"  she  finally  agreed,  a  feeble  note  of 
constraint  in  the  tone;  then  adding,  with  an 
uncertain  little  smile  and  a  forced  effort  at 
lightness:  "But,  oh,  Rosalie!  you  burst  upon 
us  so  abruptly  with  your  good  news ! " 

"I  am  off  to  hunt  him  up."  Feme  quickly 
relieved  her  of  the  necessity  of  prolonging  the 
tension  of  the  situation.  "And  you,  Miss 
Rosalie  —  may  I  not  come  over  to-morrow  and 
have  that  talk  ?  " 

"You  may,  and  you  must!"  Rosalie  com- 
manded. 

She  shyly  slipped  her  hand  over  one  of 
Victoria's  as  Feme  walked  away  to  his  horse; 
and  Feme,  never  once  glancing  back,  rode 
off  down  the  drive  and  into  the  Avenue  before 
the  silence  between  the  two  girls,  whose  eyes 
followed  him,  was  broken. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue 


XXX 

IT  was  the  evening  of  the  next  day  that 
Andrew  Outcault  called  at  The  Mounds.  If 
he  had  yielded  to  his  impulse  he  would  have 
made  that  call  twenty-four  hours  sooner;  but 
he  had  reflected  that  the  preceding  day  was 
the  first  after  the  return  of  Arthur  Feme, 
who  would  unquestionably  wish  to  spend 
much  of  it  at  The  Mounds;  and  for  once 
Outcault  subordinated  his  own  desires  in 
deference  to  a  rival.  Moreover,  it  is  only 
justice  to  him  to  say  that  as  he  awaited 
Victoria's  appearance,  in  the  same  room  in 
which  Feme  had  awaited  her  the  day  before, 
Outcault' s  thought  was  of  Feme  rather  than 
of  himself,  his  immediate  purpose  being  to 
do  what  he  could,  if  he  could  do  anything  — 
and  if  it  were  necessary  to  do  anything  —  to 
help  Feme  to  fair  play.  Outcault  felt  that 
he  could  think  of  himself  later. 

Unlike   Feme,    Outcault   waited   long  for 
Victoria;  and  when  at  last  he  heard  her  com- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  313 

ing  it  was  with  a  slow  step,  that  once  halted 
for  a  second  on  the  stairs. 

She  paused  again  in  the  doorway,  and 
Outcault,  as  he  rose,  not  noting  the  momen- 
tary hesitation,  the  stir  of  the  chiffon  at  her 
throat,  the  soft  sub-color  of  the  clear  face, 
was  conscious  of  only  the  fathomless  splendor 
of  her  eyes. 

She  advanced  to  meet  him,  giving  him  her 
hand,  on  her  lips  a  faint  smile  that  seemed 
only  to  intensify  the  luminous  gravity  and 
mystery  of  the  eyes. 

Outcault  could  never  recall  the  exact  words 
of  the  greeting  by  either.  Most  likely  each 
simply  spoke  the  other's  name  as  Outcault 
clasped  her  hand.  As  they  found  seats  Vic- 
toria, patently  bent  upon  some  speech  that 
was  commonplace  and  courteous,  said : 

"You  must  let  me  add  my  congratulations, 
upon  your  return,  to  the  many  you  have 
already  received." 

"And  you,  I  hope,"  replying  with  a  slight 
affectation  of  levity  in  his  tone,  "will  not 
consider  me  unduly  precipitate  in  seeking 
your  congratulations." 

He  felt  at  once  that  this  was  not  what  he 
cared  to  say,  or  what  he  ought  to  say.  He 


Red  Blood  and  Blue 

was  not  always  as  felicitous  in  his  small-talk 
with  women  as  he  might  have  been  if  his 
training  had  been  different.  Victoria  an- 
swered this  remark  by  ignoring  it.  She  had 
a  way  sometimes,  as  Outcault  had  before  dis- 
covered, of  answering  in  that  manner  remarks 
which  it  did  not  suit  her  to  discuss,  or  which 
she  deemed  too  trivial  or  too  causeless  for 
verbal  recognition.  And  it  was  a  graceful 
and  usually  a  pleasing  way ;  for  it  left  upon 
Outcault  the  impression  of  her  failure  to  see 
his  crassness,  or  of  her  conviction  that  he 
should  take  for  granted  the  insufficiency  of 
the  self-indictment  which  such  utterances  of 
his  generally  implied. 

She  directed  the  talk  now  easily  in  a  chan- 
nel that  was  wholly  impersonal  to  himself, 
and  Outcault  followed  as  easily,  until  he 
chose  to  take  the  lead. 

"I  saw  you  at  the  Academy  night  before 
last,"  he  then  said,  a  little  abruptly. 

"  You ! "  in  surprise.  "  I  did  not  know  you 
were  there." 

"I  was  there,  but  incognito.  I  had  just 
got  into  town,  and  stopped  at  the  Academy 
while  the  governor  was  speaking.  I  remained 
outside,  at  one  of  the  windows.  —  the.  one 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  315 

nearest  where  you  were  sitting.  You  did  not 
see  me,  but  you  must  have  heard  me.  I 
cheered  Arthur  Feme's  speech  even  louder 
than  I  cheered  his  charge  up  San  Juan  Hill." 

"Wasn't  it  fine?"  a  new  light  kindling  in 
her  eyes.  "  I  wanted  to  cheer,  too,  but  —  " 

She  knew  that  she  had  wanted  to  cry  as 
well,  and  she  left  her  sentence  unfinished. 

"Perhaps  there  are  other  men  capable  of 
making  such  a  speech,"  Outcault  commented; 
"but  I  don't  know  of  any  other  one  who  would 
have  thought  it  necessary." 

"That  is  the  quarrel  I  have  with  him," 
Victoria  agreed. 

"  He  was  always  a  peculiar  fellow,  as  you 
must  know.  His  sense  of  honor  is  so  deli- 
cately developed  that  it  seems  sometimes  to 
amount  to  morbidness.  Maybe  if  he  had 
been  roughing  it  in  the  open  air  lately,  in- 
stead of  being  cooped  up  in  a  hospital,  he 
wouldn't  have  given  way  to  the  doldrums  the 
other  night.  While  one  can't  help  admiring 
him  for  such  pluck,  yet  such  over-fastidious- 
ness must  try  the  patience  of  his  warmest 
admirers.  What  business  had  he  the  other 
night  to  go  digging  up  and  making  mountains 
of  his  secret  qualms  when  he  was  starting  into 


316  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

battle?  It  is  actions  that  count.  How  many 
brave  men  would  be  left  to  the  world  if  a 
brave  man  never  knew  in  his  unconfessed 
moments  an  instant's  flinching  or  dread?" 

Outcault  soon  saw  that  Feme  needed  no 
advocate  here;  that  Victoria  understood  and 
appreciated  the  man  far  better  than  he  was 
understood  and  appreciated  by  the  masculine 
mind  of  Outcault  himself.  And  so,  after 
sitting  a  few  minutes  longer,  during  which 
he  did  not  touch  upon  the  subject  that  had 
been  forbidden  by  Victoria  when  he  had  last 
seen  her,  and  did  not  speak  of  himself  beyond 
bald  replies  to  the  few  perfunctory  inquiries 
which  Victoria  volunteered,  Outcault  left, 
satisfied  with  himself  in  that  he  had  made 
just  such  a  call  as  he  had  intended  to  make, 
and  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  for  the  first 
time  his  departure  was  watched  by  Victoria, 
through  the  meshes  of  the  curtains,  with 
thoughtful  and  puzzled  eyes. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  317 


XXXI 

IT  was  very  different  when  he  saw  her  next, 
more  than  a  week  later. 

Two  days  before,  he  had  said  good-bye  to 
Arthur  Feme,  who  was  leaving  for  service 
with  his  regiment  in  the  Philippines;  and 
this  still  October  afternoon,  as  Outcault  set 
out  for  The  Mounds,  he  had  not  gone  many 
paces  before  he  was  riding  in  that  plunging 
gallop  which  he  liked  when  the  tide  of  domi- 
nant self  was  running  full. 

In  the  short  walk  from  his  horse  to  the 
veranda  of  The  Mounds,  his  head  was  high 
and  his  lungs  were  deep  with  the  old  elation, 
pulsing  with  which,  under  the  lust  of  battle, 
he  had  beat  through  the  Cuban  jungle. 

In  the  house  he  did  not  sit  down  while  he 
waited  for  Victoria,  but  walked  from  one  win- 
dow to  another,  and  from  that  to  the  portrait 
of  the  last  James  York  Torrance.  Victoria 
came  in  almost  at  once,  but  Outcault  had 
turned  to  the  window  again. 

He  whirled  as  he  heard  the  rustle  of   her 


318  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

skirts  behind  him,  his  strong  white  teeth 
showing  between  his  smiling  lips  and  the 
light  in  his  eyes  leaping  at  the  answering 
smile,  which  he  knew  was  such  a  one  as  he 
had  never  seen  before,  except  in  his  dreams. 

"Get  your  hat,"  he  said  buoyantly,  as  he 
clasped  her  hand.  "  Let  us  go  outside.  No 
one  is  fit  to  live  who  would  stay  under  a  roof 
such  a  day  as  this." 

She  gave  a  little  exclamation  of  delight. 
"That  is  what  I  should  like!  Wait  for  me 
just  a  second." 

She  was  gone  in  an  instant,  and  Outcault 
laughed  gently  and  happily.  She  was  almost 
running  —  she  was  running !  Victoria  Tor- 
ranee  running ! 

She  returned  quickly,  a  little  flushed,  and 
the  red  lips  parted  in  a  smile,  —a  brighter, 
more  childlike  smile  than  that  which  she  had 
given  him  two  minutes  before. 

"Which  way  shall  we  go?"  she  asked,  as 
they  left  the  house. 

"The  beech  woods?" 

"  The  beech  woods  ?  " 

They  spoke  simultaneously,  and  they  looked 
at  each  other,  and  laughed  with  each  other 
at  this  miraculous  coincidence. 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  319 

They  set  off  down  the  path  to  the  brook, — 
a  narrow  path  and  occasionally  a  little  steep, 
—  he  thrashing  along  on  the  edge  of  it  beside 
her,  his  step  springing  more  elastically  once  as 
her  dress  brushed  him,  and  once  again  as  he 
caught  for  an  instant  her  hand  at  an  ugly 
place  in  the  descent. 

They  chatted  lightly,  aimlessly :  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  day,  the  balsam  of  the  air,  the  uni- 
versal calm,  the  mystery  of  the  haze  that 
softened  sky  and  atmosphere  and  water. 

At  the  foot-bridge  they  stopped  and,  leaning 
on  the  rail,  looked  down  at  the  little  stream. 
Another  mood,  more  in  keeping  with  the 
dreamy  October  day,  seemed  to  have  come  sud- 
denly to  both.  They  watched  a  dappled  young 
trout  below  them,  and  Outcault's  thoughts  were 
full  of  the  new  world  around  him,  the  new 
presence  beside  him.  It  was  as  natural,  as 
good  to  be  silent  together  as  a  moment  before 
it  had  been  to  be  frivolous  and  garrulous 
together.  In  either  mood  here  was  a  Vic- 
toria Torrance  he  had  never  known  before ;  a 
Victoria  Torrance  who  no  longer  withstood  or 
repulsed  him,  but  who  was  altogether  human 
in  her  companionship,  sweet  in  the  dignity  of 
womanhood,  fresh  in  the  spontaneity  of  girl- 


Red  Blood  and  Blue 

hood,  his  perfect  complement  in  gayety  or 
gravity,  —  such  a  Victoria  Torrance  as  he  had 
long  ago  determined  that  she  should  be,  some 
day,  for  him. 

"  Is  it  not  beautiful  ?  "  she  said,  more  as  if 
in  revery  than  in  inquiry. 

"Is  not  everything  beautiful?"  he  answered 
in  a  deep  voice. 

As  they  walked  on  across  the  bridge  Out- 
cault,  his  eyes  lingering  on  the  water,  saw 
floating  down  from  the  upper  stream  an  object 
which  arrested  his  step  as  he  bent  over  the 
rail  for  a  better  view. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  said  with  a  quick  smile,  "  yonder 
is  something  I  want !  " 

He  hurried  down  to  the  water's  edge  and, 
stooping  over,  seized  a  magnolia  leaf,  its  enamel 
glistening  wet.  With  a  boyish  laugh  he  sprang 
up  the  bank  to  Victoria  again. 

"  It  looks,"  he  exclaimed,  "  like  the  same 
leaf  I  found  a  long  time  ago  —  I  know  it  comes 
from  the  same  place.  And  I  stuck  it  in  my 
hat  and  sallied  forth  to  rescue  a  beautiful  prin- 
cess imprisoned  in  a  mediaeval  castle." 

"  How  chivalric  !  "  Victoria  smiled. 

"  And  I  think  I  have  succeeded.  Come  into 
the  beech  woods,  and  I  will  tell  you  about  it." 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  321 

Ah !  the  magic  of  the  beech  woods  on  a 
mellow  October  day.  Surely  Cap'n  Pow  Hal- 
liburton never  included  these  among  the  con- 
ditions which  he  tested  in  the  prosecution  of 
his  favorite  theory ;  or  if  he  did,  he  must 
have  forgotten  to  provide  with  them  a  man 
who  is  born  with  the  secret  of  mastery  and  a 
woman  who  has  learned  the  blessedness  of 
surrender. 

When  Outcault  and  Victoria  entered  the 
beech  woods  it  was  with  thoughtless  words 
and  fitful  laughter.  When  they  emerged  it 
was  in  silence  and  with  the  ineffable  calm 
and  joy  of  the  day  itself  on  their  counte- 
nances. 

The  first  to  speak  was  Victoria. 

Outcault  was  twirling  slowly  by  its  stem  the 
magnolia  leaf  which  he  had  taken  from  the 
brook.  Victoria,  into  whose  eyes  the  haze  of 
the  wonderful  autumnal  sunlight  seemed  to 
have  come,  raised  them  to  Outcault's  and 
reached  out  her  hand. 

"  Give  it  to  me,  please,"  she  said  softly. 

Outcault  started  and  looked  at  her  a  moment 
without  understanding. 

"  Oh,  this  !  " 

He  smiled  slightly  —  a  smile  that  no  one 


3 22  Red  Blood  and  Blue 

had  ever  seen  on  his  face  before  that  walk  in 
the  beech  woods  —  and  his  hand  was  not  quite 
steady  as  he  gave  the  leaf  to  her. 

A  little  later,  as  he  was  not  looking,  she 
pressed  its  cool  surface  for  a  moment  to  her 
glowing  cheek. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  said,  soon  afterwards,  "  when 
you  began  to  think  of  me  like  this." 

"I  am  not  sure,"  she  answered,  gazing  off 
across  blended  meadow  and  wood  to  the  dim 
line  that  marked  the  river's  course.  "  Perhaps 
it  began  on  that  day  in  the  cotton-field,  but  I 
did  not  know  until  —  " 

"  Until  ? "  he  insisted,  after  a  moment's 
waiting. 

"  Until  they  said  you  had  been  killed." 

They  walked  in  silence  a  few  steps,  when 
she  added,  as  if  she  found  it  easier  to  speak 
now: 

"Then  I  knew.  And  I  knew,  also,  how 
insignificant  were  —  all  the  things  that  had 
seemed  to  stand  between  us." 

The  sun  had  disappeared  beneath  the  hori- 
zon, but  it  seemed  to  shine  on  Outcault's  face, 
as  it  still  shone  on  one  rugged  crag  in  the 
distance. 

On  the  foot-bridge,  Outcault  stopped  again 


Red  Blood  and  Blue  323 

and  pointed  toward  the  uplands  known  as  the 
barrens,  rising  just  beyond  the  fertile  acres  of 
what  had  been  the  Dead  Sea. 

"  Look,  Victoria,"  he  said.  "  There  is  the 
top  of  just  one  hill  over  there  that  the  sun  still 
lights." 

"Yes,  I  can  see  it,"  she  answered  as  she 
stood  beside  him. 

"  That  is  the  highest  point  of  the  barrens  — 
which  are  not  barrens  at  all,  or  ought  not  to 
be.  It  adjoins  my  land  over  there,  and  I  have 
long  thought  it  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots 
in  the  country,  though  no  one,  at  least  in  our 
time,  has  lived  there  except  old  Dru  Wingate. 
I  have  chosen  it,  with  your  approval,  for  the 
home  which  I  am  to  make  for  us." 

She  looked  silently  at  the  sun-touched 
knoll;  then  her  eyes,  turning  to  the  left, 
swept  her  own  home  before  they  rested  on 
Outcault. 

"  Do  you  not  like  The  Mounds? "  she  asked 
uncertainly. 

"As  well,  perhaps,  as  any  home  that  is 
already  made  ;  but  —  " 

"  What  pleases  you  best  will  please  me  best," 
she  interposed.  "  I  only  wish  to  go  where  you 
wish  to  go.  Besides,  if  I  did  not  —  " 


324  e    Blood  and  Blue 

Their  hands  had  come  together  as  he  looked 
down  at  her  in  mute  and  tender  interrogation. 

"If  I  did  not,"  a  smile  nestling  in  her 
uplifted  eyes,  "  I  suppose  you  would  carry 
me  off  with  you,  anyway." 


BY  HARRISON  ROBERTSON 


If  I  Were  a  Man 


The  Story  of  a  New  Southerner 


i6mo.    75  cents.     (The  Ivory  Series.) 


"  If  I  were  a  Man  "  is  a  story  of  love  and  politics. 
It  narrates  incidents  in  the  recent  political  history  of 
Kentucky  which  are  so  like  the  actual  facts  that  a  non- 
resident of  that  State  can  hardly  convince  himself  that 
he  is  not  reading  a  real  history.  —  Review  of  Reviews. 

The  story  is  the  main  thing  in  "If  I  were  a  Man." 
It  moves  right  along  with  the  charm  of  rapid  narrative. 

—  "  DROCH,"  in  Life. 

Harrison  Robertson  has  again  proved  that  the  mixed 
field  of  American  politics  affords  unequalled  opportu- 
nities for  surprises,  dramatic  situations,  treacheries, 
renunciations,  tragedy,  and  comedy.  —  The  Chicago 
Evening  Post. 

As  a  study  in  practical  politics,  written  with  abundant 
dash,  and  revealing  shrewd  insight  into  conditions  which 
prevail,  not  in  Kentucky  alone,  the  book  is  good  to  read. 

—  The  Nation. 


IF  I  f^ERE   A   MAN 


To  say  that  it  is  we'll  written  and  altogether  readable 
does  not  serve  the  turn  of  criticism ;  it  is  more.  Short, 
swiftly  moving,  the  current  of  the  narrative  never  flags. 
The  story  gives  a  sharp,  strong  picture,  unquestion- 
ably touched  with  the  fascination  of  genius.  —  The 
Independent. 

It  is  a  good  story  from  every  point  of  view,  carefully 
written,  well  balanced,  and  thoroughly  wholesome. 
There  is  promise  in  it  of  strong,  sane  work  in  the 
future.  —  The  Outlook. 

Mr.  Robertson  has  created  a  manly  young  American, 
and  dowered  him  with  the  manly  virtues  without  mak- 
ing him  a  prig.  ..."  If  I  were  a  Man  "  is  a  sprightly 
story,  thoroughly  in  touch  with  real  life,  and  distinc- 
tively American.  —  Detroit  Free  Press. 

It  has  remained  for  Mr.  Harrison  Robertson  to  treat 
for  the  first  time  the  political  life  in  Kentucky  as  the 
making  of  a  career,  and  he  has  done  it  ingenuously  and 
interestingly  in  his  book,  "  If  I  were  a  Man."  In  pre- 
senting his  initial  book,  Mr.  Robertson  begins  unques- 
tionably the  fulfilment  of  the  rich  promise  that  his  early 
work  held  out.  —  Louisville  Times. 


CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
Publishers,  153-157  Fifth  Ave.,  New  York 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


•unrn 


Form  L9-Series  444 


DC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL 


A     000  030  937     7 


